


Adventures With Criminals

by afleetoffoxes



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Grand Theft Auto Setting, F/M, Fake AH Crew, Fluffy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Reporter!Jon, Slight Torture Warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-09
Updated: 2016-07-08
Packaged: 2018-06-07 11:01:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 24,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6800998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afleetoffoxes/pseuds/afleetoffoxes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jon had no idea he'd ever meet the FakeAH Crew. He wasn't prepared, he wasn't expecting it, and he certainly didn't have his camera. Oh, and now he's a hostage. Cool.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Um. Yeah. Welcome to AO3 me. I'm brand new here so I'll probably be moving my fics from other sites onto here as well. But I figured... for a new site, might as well write a new fic. So here's a little Risingwood with no beta. Gotta forgive me, loves.

It was any normal day for Jon. He’d gone to work, wrote an article about something he couldn’t even be bothered to remember, then he went to the bank near his apartment to pay his rent for the month. He stood in line, swiping through articles on his phone, displeased with so much of his work these days. He just didn’t care about any of it. School funding, a sex scandal involving the mayor, a strike. Nothing that made Jon’s blood pump or made the creativity spark in his brain.

He was next in line when yelling could be heard from outside the bank. The doors swung open harshly and in charged three men all in various styles of hockey masks and black clothing. Sub-machine guns were abruptly aimed at the small crowd and shrieks of terror rang out through the bank.

“Everyone down on the ground bitches!” the leader shouted, shooting off a few bullets into the air. “Hands on your heads and everything will be just fine.” Jon tried to stay relatively calm as he lowered himself to the ground and watched the three move through the bank out of the corner of his eye. He’d heard of the crew in passing, everyone in Achievement City knew about the Fake AH Crew but Jon had never seen any of them in person. God, how he wished he’d had his camera.

No one knew any of their names and they usually changed code-names every heist. Stuff about lazers, tacos, anuses, Hispanics at discos, tafkars, and even something about a minge? The only code name that never changed was the skull man, the Vagabond. Jon didn’t see the skull mask among the men and took a deep breath of relief at that. The Vagabond was by far the most dangerous of the Fake AH Crew, killing civilians or cops seemingly without care.

The leader walked over to stand at the teller desks near Jon and he could just see the hint of tattoo ink peeking out between the sleeve of his shirt and his gloves. The other two had disappeared into the back and Jon shivered as he heard a muffled explosion that he was sure they’d used to blow the vault. He could hear giggles and something that sounded like cooing as the two men returned with four duffel bags bulging with money.

“All good boss,” the shortest one called, taking one of the duffel bags from the other guy and glancing around at the people on the ground.

“Good, let’s get out of here,” the leader said and Jon could feel relief on everyone in the room as the three armed men started heading for the door. He froze as one stopped beside him, scuffed black converse right in his face. “Stand up for a sec would ya, kid?” The man’s voice asked nicely enough and Jon felt the gun tap his back lightly.

With a deep breath, Jon hauled himself up and stared into the dark blue eyes peeking through the mask. The eyes crinkled and the man said cheerfully, “Just gonna borrow you for a bit. Need a clean walk out of this place.”

Jon nodded face neutral though his heart thundered inside his chest. He felt afraid adrenaline fueled and curious. But there was excitement in his fear, something new in his life, even if it was danger.

“Good boy.” The leader sounded pleased as he wrapped a hand around Jon’s arm and led him over to the other men near the front doors. Outside he could hear shooting and explosions.

“Ready to go gentlemen,” the leader said into his mic and suddenly there was a squeal of tires from the radio on the man’s hip. The four men pushed through the doors, Jon in front with a gun pointed at his head.

The street was a mess. Cop cars, both intact and completely destroyed, were everywhere, many smoking dangerously. Bodies littered the pavement near the cars and Jon noticed that they were all cops, no civilians in the mix. Just off to the side of the bank doors was a sleek black car, now riddled with bullet holes and being used as cover for a man in a black and blue leather jacket, face covered by a black skull mask. The man was steadily taking out the ACPD with a variety of weapons, including but not limited to an assault rifle, a grenade launcher, and an RPG. A loud shot rang out in the air and Jon realized the skull man was being covered by sniper fire. 

The cops slowly stopped firing as they saw the rest of the crew with a hostage. It was much quieter and Jon could hear helicopters in the distance. He wondered how they were planning on getting out of this one.

“You’re surrounded! Let the hostage go!” one of the police officers called, voice amplified by a megaphone.

One of the men behind him snickered.

In the distance, there’s the roar of an engine coming closer and then one of the wrecked cop cars goes flying through the air, landing on top of an undamaged one and thoroughly distracting the police force. The cause of the accident was an armored truck with darkened windows and a crude shield of sorts attached to the front to push anything out of its way. It squealed to a stop in front of the men, effectively shielding them from any incoming bullets as the four men and their hostage climbed in. 

“We’re in,” the leader called as the others shut the door. In the driver’s seat, Jon could see a larger man with red hair and a thick red beard and he peeled away, undisturbed by the bullets pinging off the outside of the truck. As they drove off, the others settled down in the van on benches that looked custom built along with the gun racks along the walls.  
The leader walked him over to the bench where the Vagabond sat and handed him to the masked figure wordlessly. Jon felt his throat tighten as he took a seat next to him and the leader seemed satisfied enough and went to go sit in the passenger seat. “Brownman we’re clear, we’ll lose the choppers and meet you back home,” he heard him murmur into the radio.

“Got it. See ya there,” a voice crackled through the radio.

Jon was still nervous but he started glancing around the truck to check out their set up. They had an army’s worth of guns on the racks and cabinets full of bullets and grenades. There were extra radios on hooks and something that looked suspiciously like a mini-fridge behind the driver’s seat.

“Hoo hoo Micooo, look at the bags,” the taller of the pair crowed in what he thought was a British accent. The man pulled off his mask to reveal dirty blond hair that stuck up in every direction and an abnormally large nose.

The other grumbled and removed his own mask, shooting Jon a quick glance before smirking at his partner. “Yeah Gavvers, we get it.” The man had thick reddish curls and a much softer face than Jon would’ve suspected. He had a wild gleam in his eyes that said he was more dangerous than you’d suspect.

As he took in the other two, he felt his skin tingle and turned to see bright blue eyes staring at him behind the skull mask. Jon felt a flush creeping up his neck as he looked away quickly.

He could see the leader now, having removed his mask to reveal a spectacular mustache, twirled to perfection and messy, black hair. He kinda looked like a cartoon villain. The mustached man turned to see Jon watching him and he smiled. “Don’t worry, once we lose the choppers we’ll bring you home. You were exceptional by the way,” he said with a grin. He seemed ecstatic and Jon figured he was riding high on the rush of a successful heist.

Much sooner than he thought, they’d lost the helicopters and Jon could only admire the bearded man’s driving. They pulled into an alleyway and parked and the Vagabond stood up to open the door to the truck. The sun seemed to have set while they drove and Jon hadn’t even noticed.

“Skull Boy here is gonna take you home now, kid. Or wherever you wanna go. Just give him an address and he’ll take you,” the leader said, coming over to lay a hand on his shoulder. He must have noticed Jon’s nervousness because he grinned. “Don’t worry, he’s harmless. Good work today.”

Jon nodded, looking at the other three inside the truck. The bearded man and the British guy both gave him little smiles and the guy with curls ignored him to open the mini-fridge to pull out a beer. Then he turned to see the man still wearing his mask standing next to a motorcycle with two full-faced helmets. Where it came from, Jon had no idea. He hopped out of the truck and the leader shut the door so they could continue on through the alleyway and disappear around the corner.

“Where to?”

Jon jumped as he heard the voice and expected to see someone besides the masked man. The voice was too normal, soft yet strong with a touch of a southern accent.

Jon’s neck burned and he looked away from the blue eyes watching him carefully. He forced his voice to stay calm. “My apartment is close to the bank, you don’t need to take me. I’m sure that’s the worst place for you to go right now.”

“It’s fine,” the man said, turning to remove the skull mask and slip on the helmet. It was too quick and Jon was on the wrong angle, leaving the criminal’s face a mystery, though he caught a glimpse of dirty blond hair. 

Jon shuffled his feet, going to put on his helmet as well. “I don’t mind a little walk.” He was struggling to secure it while his hands shook. “You could drop me off at like the supermarket or the corner store-“

“I’ll bring you to your apartment,” the man said, voice a little more forceful as he swatted Jon’s hands away and did the buckle himself.

Jon nodded and mumbled the address, glad that the helmet hid his red face.

Seemingly satisfied, Vagabond climbed onto the bike and waited for Jon to climb on behind him. The bike started and Jon squeaked though he was fairly sure the engine drowned it out. The criminal sped out of the alley and headed for the highway, apparently unconcerned with the speed limit. Jon tried to find something to hold onto but the bike seemed to be without handles and he was forced to put his hands on Vagabond’s hips.

Once he stopped worrying about falling off, the ride was actually enjoyable. Ryan seemed to take a bit of a scenic route, letting Jon enjoy the blurring colors of Achievement City as he watched downtown whizz past. Soon enough they were passing the bank where he’d been earlier and met the Fake AH Crew. The police seemed to have cleaned up a bit but there was police tape blocking off most of the area. Jon felt Vagabond’s body vibrate and it took longer than it should have for him to realize that it was laughter. He blamed it on how tired the adrenaline rush had made him but knowing that the criminal could laugh made him relax a little more. 

The Vagabond pulled up right outside the apartment doors and let Jon climb off. His fingers no longer shook and he was able to take off the helmet by himself. The masked man took it and tied it to the bike before looking back at the floppy haired man.

“Uh… Thanks,” Jon mumbled, shuffling his feet.

“Thanks for being a compliant meat-shield,” the man replied and for a second Jon was afraid before the killer laughed again. “Sorry. I’m bad with humor.”

Nodding, Jon turned to head inside, pulling out his keys until he heard a grunting sound behind him. The criminal had his visor up but Jon couldn’t see much besides the spark in his eyes from the street lamp. 

“I trust you won’t say anything about what you heard and saw today. I’d hate to have to kill you.” Then the visor was back down and the Vagabond disappeared into the night leaving Jon shivering.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon had no idea he'd ever meet the FakeAH Crew. He wasn't prepared, he wasn't expecting it, and he certainly didn't have his camera. Oh, and now he's a hostage. Cool.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still haven't found a beta but I've reread this chapter over and over so hopefully everything is okay. If not, someone can let me know? I'd appreciate it. Also, this one is a little on the short side so I'm going to try and post chapter 3 soon.
> 
> Anyways, I couldn't wait to post this. I've finally got it hammered out how this is going to go and I'm super excited and all I want to do is write it. I'll hopefully be posting some of my old stuff in the next few days too. That being said, if you want me to write something you can give me a prompt or anything you like.
> 
> Enjoy. <3  
> P.S. Thanks for all the lovely comments <3

No one seemed to realize that he was the hostage taken by the Fake AH Crew because no police showed up to question him. Jon was just happy he didn’t have to think of lies to tell the cops even if he was a pretty good actor.

Instead, he went to work like normal the next day after having a fitful sleep. He couldn’t get the killer’s words out of his head, couldn’t stop seeing those eyes.

When Miles saw his friend walk into the office his first thought was that Jon looked like shit.

“You okay man?” he asked his floppy haired friend, getting up to follow him to his desk.

“Yeah I’m fine. Just didn’t sleep the greatest,” he answered, rubbing a hand over his eyes. Miles disappeared and came back a couple of minutes later with a Red Bull in hand. At the sight, Jon made grabby hands and took a greedy gulp. He didn’t often have energy drinks first thing in the morning but coffee sometimes messed with his celiac disease and at least Red Bull was safe. “You life saver, fuck. Thanks.”

“Yeah I got you. So did you hear about the Fake AH Crew yesterday? Robbed that bank down the road from you. Took a hostage too apparently,” Miles said, leaning against Jon’s desk. He knew Miles was just making conversation but talking about the heist made him remember the motorcycle ride last night and the words that haunted him.

After a while, Miles went back to his desk and Jon started up his computer only to see an email from his boss.

_Give me a story on the Fake AH Crew._

That’s it. Jon would be more annoyed if his boss wasn’t on vacation because at least he didn’t have to deal with him.

He started the article, sticking to fairly neutral stuff, not sure what he could write about. If the Fake AH Crew read his article and didn’t like it, they knew exactly how to find him to make sure he never said another word about them. But as Jon wrote he started to remember their skill and how normal they actually were. They didn’t try to hurt the civilians, they kept their word, kept him safe, and brought him home. He wrote whatever came to his head and when he finished, he realized he sounded a bit like an obsessive fan. He couldn’t have that. He needed to be professional about it so he ate his lunch at his desk and retyped the article until he sounded less worshiping and more admiring.

It took up the majority of his day but he sent it off to his boss for review and finished up a smaller article he’d started yesterday. His boss, as it turned out, liked his article enough to print it though he told him to _‘try and sound less lover-boy next time’_. Jon felt his cheeks burn.

He tries not to think about the Fake AH Crew for the rest of the night as he and Miles, Kerry and Chris head out for Friday night drinks. He tries not to think of the adrenaline, of avoiding helicopters, of so much money he’d never have to worry about rent again, of motorcycles, of threats and blue eyes. He tries and he fails.

\- - -

His article is in the paper Monday morning and Jon almost forgets that he wrote it until the headline is staring him in the face. He’d spent the weekend in his apartment with Miles, playing video games, eating junk food, and shooting the shit. He didn’t often get to do something like that so he reveled in it at the time. It helped him get his head off of the heist during the day but as soon as he’d hear Miles snoring softly from his spot on the couch all the memories would rush back.

Monday finds him faced with his own words and the fear that the Vagabond will come back to silence him weighs heavily on his mind. Wednesday rolls around and there’s no sign of the murderer in the black skull mask. Jon feels himself start to relax finally. Maybe they never gave him a second thought after he left the armored truck. To them he was probably just some random civilian. It’s not like they asked his name, though he had no doubt they could get it themselves if they wanted it, so maybe they didn’t know it was him who’d written the article.

Two weeks went by before he saw the Fake AH Crew again. Jon was out taking pictures of the newly re-built fire hall (it’d been burnt down some time ago during one of the Fake AH Crew’s heists, though they sent a tweet to the ACFD saying it was ‘totally an accident’) for one of his less exciting articles. He was just walking back towards the office when an explosion shook the ground under his feet and his fingertips tingled. He looked two buildings to his right and saw a bank and his reporter instincts told him to cross the road to get a better vantage point.

He realized he was correct in his thoughts when he heard sirens in the distance and saw four men rushing out of the bank with bags of cash and Mickey Mouse masks on their faces. All except for one certain skull mask. 

Jon lifted his camera to his eye and started snapping pictures of the Crew, looking nothing short of majestic in the late afternoon sun, guns gleaming, and stray bills escaping in the light wind from a bag left slightly open. He heard the screech of tires and turned to see a big SUV speeding towards them. Jon turned to catch the approach on camera and then he was watching the four men climb into the vehicle. 

Jon felt his blood rushing with adrenaline just from the proximity; just from the knowledge that they were getting away _again_ and yeah he’d pretty much become their biggest fan without realizing it.

Just as he was about to drop his camera to watch the SUV drive away with all the skill he knew the driver possessed, he caught a glimpse of a black skull mask. The man was looking right at him, head slightly tilted, before he raised a hand to wave slightly. Jon felt himself smile and snap another picture. A raised voice caught the Vagabond’s attention and he was quickly climbing into the car to be driven away. He left just as the cops arrived to chase the car, knowing without doubt that they’d get away.

\- - - -

Jon brought his photos into his boss’s office, too excited about his find to worry about being yelled at. His boss was, however, pleased with him and wanted Jon’s story on his desk by the night so that it would be in the paper first thing in the morning.

The reporter wrote way past quitting time, too absorbed in his story to be bothered to head home to an empty apartment. By 8:30 he had a story he was proud of and several pictures he’d picked out sent to his boss and he could head home feeling proud of himself. And grateful for his stroke of luck. 

The next day, the story was a hit. Jon saw people reading it on the train to work, at the coffee shop just down the street; even people in the office were talking about it. His boss begrudgingly admitted that the Fake AH Crew stories were the boost that their office had needed. Even if he hated how Jon seemed to hero-worship them. Jon was assigned all articles on the Fake AH Crew from then on. He beamed at the praise the entire day until he got back to his apartment only to see a familiar motorcycle and a helmeted man waiting for him at the steps.

“Jon,” the Vagabond said, voice impossible to read, “The Fake AH Crew would like to have a word with you.”

Jon’s heart had never beaten so fast.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon had no idea he'd ever meet the FakeAH Crew. He wasn't prepared, he wasn't expecting it, and he certainly didn't have his camera. Oh, and now he's a hostage. Cool.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I loved writing this chapter. I loved writing about the Crew and getting into the meat of the story finally. That being said, it's such a hard thing to write Chapter 3 dialogue when you've already finished the final Chapter and you just want to skip over dialogue that you're frustratingly stuck on.
> 
> Anyways, super pleased with this chapter. Only read it over once after I finished it so there may be mistakes. If you notice something, maybe let me know? Or... like... throw a Beta my way? Like just the entire person.
> 
> Also, feel free to stop by my tumblr - [AlopexTheFox](http://alopexthefox.tumblr.com) \- and send me a prompt
> 
> Hope you all enjoy <3

Jon hung on to the Vagabond again as they weaved through the streets of Achievement City to the much richer part of town. He’d never even been to that side of the city, where the houses cost more than his apartment ever would in a hundred years.

They pulled up to the fanciest apartment building Jon has ever seen and the Vagabond clicked a button on his motorcycle that opened a garage. They entered and drove past rows of expensive looking vehicles until they reached another garage door and the man opened that one too. The second garage is smaller, obviously private, but there are still easily 20 vehicles of every type inside. Jon had never been very good with cars but he recognized a black Roosevelt with a green symbol sort of like a weird star on the hood. It was definitely the Fake AH Crew’s garage.

The Vagabond parked the bike and Jon climbed off, quickly unbuckling the helmet to look at the garage some more. It was fairly empty besides the vehicles but as he looked around he noticed that the armored truck and the black SUV were missing. They must’ve had a place to store “work” vehicles.

Jon heard a throat clearing and turned to see the Vagabond standing near a long counter in his skull mask. He saw an arrangement of helmets hung on the wall, most of them painted in funky colors or with words (mostly swears) wrapping right around them. On the counter, he saw a wide array of tools, all gleaming in the light.

He was completely in awe as the masked man took his helmet to hang it up beside the others, chuckling lowly.

“Come on, Jon,” the man said, leading him over to an elevator and Jon would follow like a puppy every time if the man said his name like that. It made his skin tingle and a flush creep up his neck in pleasure, something Jon had never experienced before. He was in trouble.

The Vagabond punched a code into the panel and the elevator began to rise. It gave Jon the chance to sneak sideways glances at the man beside him. He wasn’t sure what to make of the meeting he was about to have with the Fake AH Crew. The Vagabond seemed calm, pleasant even, that couldn’t mean he was about to be killed could it? Jon wasn’t sure.

They rode all the way up to the second to last floor and got off. Jon was honestly surprised that the Crew didn’t own the penthouse suite if they owned such a huge garage. He was even more surprised when the masked man unlocked the door (and really it was only a simple lock while Jon was waiting for DNA scanners or something) and they stepped inside the two-story penthouse.

Jon had never seen a more beautiful house in all of his life. On the far left wall there were floor to ceiling windows giving the most breathtaking view of Achievement City that he’d ever seen or doubted he would ever see again. A designer kitchen was nestled in on the right and. smack in the center, there were three luxurious looking couches surrounding an 80’ TV with a state of the art entertainment center. Jon nearly drooled. Behind the wall with the TV, there was a hallway leading off somewhere and a staircase leading to an open upstairs area.

As he took it all in, wondering what kind of people he was actually dealing with, the Vagabond walked into the kitchen and pulled out a Diet Coke and a Red Bull. He held the Red Bull out to Jon who took it gratefully, still in shock as he took a long pull. Only after half the can was gone did something clue into his mind.

“How did you know I liked Red Bull?” he asked, glancing at the man.

He shrugged. “We might’ve had surveillance on you,” the man said, and Jon swore he saw a flush climb up the back of the man’s neck where the mask didn’t meet his collar. So the Vagabond could blush.

“Makes sense, I guess,” Jon shrugged, not altogether surprised but not exactly happy with the idea. Still, it wasn’t like he was about to get mad at a killer.

“To be fair…” a voice from the second floor echoed through the room and startled Jon just the slightest bit. It was the curly redhead, that same dangerous feeling making Jon shiver. “You did see our faces. Though that’s more Gavin’s fault than yours,” he said with a shrug and an easy grin tossed over his shoulder.

“Micoooooo! That’s not fair! Geoff said-!” the British man with the big nose appeared at the curly-haired man’s side, waving his arms around in the air.

“I knew we could trust him. He’s a good kid,” the man with the spectacular mustache stepped out of the hallway past the stairs. Behind him were the other two members of the Crew; the bearded driver and… A kid? Jon was surprised to see a young man who he was sure couldn’t be more than eighteen with light-brown skin hidden under a purple hoodie. He just looked over the leader’s shoulder with big curious eyes behind glasses that slipped down his nose.

The leader started walking towards him and that seemed enough to draw the other four members into the living room to see the civilian. Jon felt like a pride of lions was advancing on him. “You wrote a very good article, Jon. Two of them actually,” the man complimented, tossing two newspapers he hadn’t noticed the boss carrying down onto the coffee table for Jon to look at. He knew that they were his work immediately and he felt his face flush.

The circle of men around him let out chuckles and all of them moved to take seats around the table. He saw the Vagabond gesture to the couch beside him and Jon sat, surprised when the masked man joined him.

“I know this must seem a little strange to you, being invited to the home of the six most wanted criminals in Achievement City but don’t worry, you’re safe with us.” The boss leaned over with a smirk with a smirk on his face and his hand extended. Jon shook it, noticing the tattoos on his hands and wrists that he’d caught only a glimpse of before leading up under the tuxedo the man was wearing. “I’m Geoff, leader of this bunch of losers.”

“That’s Jack, driver extraordinaire. He can drive or pilot anything. Anything.” The bearded man flushed slightly but waved at Jon nevertheless.

“Gavin is the British idiot,” as he said this, Gavin let out an indignant squawk. “He’s actually a pretty good hacker when he decides to use his brain.”

He pointed to the curly haired man with his arm tossed over the Brit’s shoulder. “That’s Michael. Executive Badass and explosives expert,” he went on and Michael gave Jon a quick fire grin. Jon instantly understood the air of danger surrounding the man.

“And this is Ray, best sniper we’ve ever seen,” Geoff finished, clapping a hand on the kid’s shoulder. The young man flashed Jon a grin and a wink.

“Puerto Rican sex god at your service,” he said with an exaggerated bow. Jon realized his was the voice he’d heard over the radio when he’d been taken hostage. Ray was Brownman. 

The conversation erupted into groans and jeers and Jon noticed how casually they skipped over the Vagabond. Clearly he wasn’t going to learn about the masked man.

“Look,” Geoff interrupted finally, cutting off Gavin squawking as Michael pushed him over, allowing Ray to climb on top of the man. “What we’re saying here Jon, is that we like your work. We like the way you make us look. Quite frankly, our popularity has shot up since your articles.”

“We’ve been getting wicked hits online and our Twitter is blowing up with tweets and follows,” Gavin told him, grinning despite the Puerto Rican still sitting on top of him.

“We’d like you to keep doing stories on us,” Jack piped up catching Jon off guard with his words. He looked to see the other five nodding, even the Vagabond.

“You’re sure about that?” Jon asked, his voice cracking slightly.

“Absolutely. We’ll let you know when we’re going to do a heist, set up a place for you to get good pictures, let you write a story. But you gotta be discreet, stories every couple of weeks, so it’s not too obvious you’re being tipped off. And you’re going to leak false information for us,” Geoff told him with a lazy grin.

Jon was confused for just a moment before it sunk in. “Leak information to keep the heat off your next heist.”

“Cops think we’ll be in one place and then we’re somewhere else,” confirmed the mustached man.

Jon nodded slowly, taking in the faces around him. Then Jack questioned quietly, “would you like to know what’s in it for you first?”

That surprised Jon. He thought that the praise and raise he’d been given was his reward.

Smiling, Jack looked to Geoff, nudging him. He groaned good-naturedly. “We’ll pay you, money straight into your account. After all, you’ll work for us now. Which also comes with protection.”

“Protection?” Jon breathed, worried for a moment.

“We’ll protect you from any threat that may present itself,” the Vagabond answered quietly, though it made Jon flinch. He’d almost forgotten the man was there. “Any gangs, any cops, doesn’t matter. We’ll protect you,” he assured, though his expression was tight and concerned.

Jon wondered briefly if it was because of his jumpiness or his safety. Regardless, warmth and relief spread through Jon without him really knowing why. He’d never been afraid of gangs or cops before but knowing that the Crew would keep him safe if there were just made him feel better somehow. The most terrifying killer he knew of was going to be protecting him. Hell, he was probably safe from anyone at that rate. He held a hand out to Geoff, grinning. “I guess you have yourselves a deal then.”

Geoff shook his hand before standing abruptly and clapping his hands in a hup-two manner. “Now that that’s settled. It’s game night. I’ll start dinner,” he announced to the gang, heading into the kitchen.

The rest of the crew was in motion then, getting up to move couches, set up game systems, get drinks, or, in Ray’s case, get high. Jon wasn’t really sure what to do, wondering if he should be leaving or helping. 

As they’re booted up Halo on two Xboxes and a _second_ TV (really where did they get this shit?), the Vagabond leaned closer into Jon’s space so only he could hear him speak. “I can take you home if you’re uncomfortable with this. You don’t have to stay.” His voice was quiet and soothing, yet strong, and Jon knew he could get lost listening to anything the man said.

He looked around the room, taking in the scene. Michael was lying on one of the couches, Gavin in his lap and a controller in his hands where they wrapped around the Brit and yeah, he was pretty sure there was something going on there. Ray was by their feet, a discarded bong on the coffee table with smoke still in the air and a DS now in his hands as he waited. Jack had gotten up to check on Geoff, bringing back bottles of all sorts and returning to the couch where he left a large spot open, presumably for the boss.

These were the most dangerous men in Achievement City, maybe in all of the country. Yet to Jon they just looked like a group of friends, like a family. In that moment he couldn’t imagine returning to his shitty little apartment just to sit alone for the rest of the night.

“No,” he told the killer, smiling at the bright blue eyes that were waiting, “I’m just fine right here.

\- - - -

Geoff, as it turned out, was a pretty good chef. He’d come to join them wearing a bright apron with cupcakes all over it and carrying trays of finger foods. Wings, fries, jalapeno poppers, even sliders. Jon was so in awe of the spread and the man that he didn’t even comment on the apron. And then something happened that Jon never would’ve expected.

“Dude, he’s one of us now. I think you can take off the damn mask and stop being a creepy motherfucker,” Geoff scolded the Vagabond, who was still sat next to Jon but seemed to have relaxed enough to spread out on the couch a bit. “How the fuck are you gonna eat my food with that thing on? Can you even see the game!?” His voice was steadily getting higher and Jon almost laughed at the motherly tone.

“He just absorbs the nutrients through his skin like a tree,” Jack said offhandedly, not looking away from the screen as he tried to chase someone on Blue Team down. A moment later, Gavin let out an upset noise.

“Nah, he eats it all through his dick,” Ray quipped, sniping someone from clear across the map and then Michael was yelling while someone snorted loudly.

The Vagabond huffed and Jon held his breath as the mask was removed. The man underneath was nothing short of beautiful. He had hair that teetered between blond and brunet and the photographer knew he could change the color just by adjusting the lighting. The man dragged a hand through the locks, giving it body and a waviness that made his fingers itch to take a picture, itch _worse_ to run through the soft strands. He had a strong jaw, light skin, a stubbly beard, and something that looked oddly like face paint on the edge of his chin. But it was the bright blue eyes, shining in the low light of the room that made Jon’s breath rush out. They were just this side of manic with a touch of danger and more than a little amusement that made the reporter shuttered lightly. He was mesmerized and couldn’t look away even when the man turned to watch him carefully.

The vibration of the Xbox controller in his hands snapped him out of his trance but Jon found that he didn’t care if he’d been killed.

They played Halo and drank; even Jon had a few glasses of wine. The food was amazing and he told Geoff as much. The man just smiled and batted his eyelashes at the younger until Jack smacked his arm. Jon had a great time, really, but he’d found himself staring at the Vagabond a lot more than the game. Eventually, he’d just handed the controller over to the criminal who’d shaken his head until Jon gave him the puppy eyes without realizing it. The Vagabond had suddenly caved, taking the controller and leaving Jon free to stared some more. It was easier when the man was focused on the game but he figured he knew he was being watched when a blush would creep up the Vagabond’s neck every so often. For some reason that pleased Jon immensely.

The games stopped a little after midnight when the door opened and in walked a beautiful blonde with tattoos all over her arms and a septum piercing. She was lean and gracefully looking but something about her looked strong, like she could easily kick the ass of any of the men in the room. It didn’t help matters when Jon realized she was holding a chainsaw in one hand.

Geoff stood immediately, walking over to the woman and sweeping her into a hug, whispering into her ear. The woman smiled and leaned in to kiss their boss. Geoff laughed and turned to look at Jon, the woman on his side. 

“Jon, this is my wife Griffon, you’ll see her every now and again. This is Jon, the kid I was telling you about,” he told Griffon, his voice softening as he looked at her.

Griffon smiled and walked over to Jon, making the man stand in confusion. She wrapped him in an easy hug and spoke quietly, “Welcome Jon, I’ve heard a lot about you.”

The reporter wondered how much a lot was considering he knew so little about the Crew. Then he remembered the surveillance they’d claimed to put on him and his face reddened. “It’s nice to meet you, ma’am,” he mumbled, embarrassed.

“Griffon, please,” she laughed and turned as Geoff appeared behind her with a plate of the food that they’d been eating all evening. They turned and headed down the dark hallway. “Goodnight boys,” Griffon called back.

“Night Griffon,” a chorus of voices echoed. The games had been turned off and the group was slowly moving around the room. Gavin was wobbling as he stood so Michael wrapped an arm around the Brit and helped him up the stairs, a quick ‘night’ thrown over his shoulder.

Jack was cleaning up the controllers while Ray stumbled tiredly into the kitchen with the dishes. Jon looked for some way to help, only to feel a hand on his shoulder. This time he didn’t jump and he was pleased to realize that he was slowly getting used to the Vagabond’s quiet there-ness - he just always seemed to be around, hovering and Jon would be lying if he said it wasn’t becoming reassuring. “Would you like me to take you home now?” The Vagabond was the only one who hadn’t been drinking, or in Ray’s case getting high, and Jon belatedly realized that he was probably the reason why. Suddenly he felt bad.

“I’ll help clean up and then I can catch a cab home,” Jon said, leaning down to grab his wine glass and controller. The man simply plucked them out of his hands though, an easy smile on his pretty face. Jon was too dazzled to mind.

“I’ll drive you, you don’t need a cab. And don’t worry about cleaning up.” The Vagabond turned to hand the items to Jack who laughed and took them.

“He’s right, you’re our guest. Let us handle it,” the bearded man beamed and headed off into the kitchen where Ray was doing dishes.

Jon thanked them and headed for the door where the Vagabond waited patiently. The elevator ride seemed much longer to Jon and he blamed it on the tension in the air. “Sorry you had to take me home. I’ll come on my own next time so you can drink with the others,” Jon mumbled if only to cut the air between them.

“I don’t drink; it’s no trouble to me,” the man assured, smile light and just a little amused. Clearly Jon was the only one feeling the anxiety.

Down in the garage, Jon was surprised when he was offered a heavy leather jacket only to receive an ‘it probably got cold out’. It had gotten colder, Jon noted as they took off on the motorcycle and he was ridiculously grateful for the soft jacket he’d been offered.

He found himself enjoying the motorcycle more and more each time he rode it and the Vagabond seemed to be trying to make that happen. He took Jon on a different route that time, though the view was just as pretty. He could see the mountain in the distance, the ‘Vinewood’ sign glowing brightly in the darkness along the way. They drove near the ocean and Jon could feel the cool, sea breeze on his neck and hands.

When they pulled up at the apartment, Jon was flushed and grinning, having enjoyed the ride terribly. Much to his surprise, the Vagabond parked the motorcycle and started to get off as well. “I have a couple of cameras to set up in the hallways so we can keep an eye on you.” Jon stared in shock at the man before he was scrambling to correct himself. “Not that we’ll be watching you, but watching out for you. We didn’t camera your apartment or anything, just your work,” he added, mouth seeming to be working overtime to make Jon understand. The reporter just gave him a shy smile and nodded but that seemed to be enough to set the criminal at ease.

The Vagabond followed him inside and up to his floor, setting small cameras on walls and ceilings as he passed. They were nearly invisible, only noticeable if you were looking for them and Jon was amazed. No wonder he hadn’t noticed them watching him at work. They could’ve easily bugged his apartment and he’d never have known.

At Jon’s door, the Vagabond seemed to shuffle his feet a little, watching every door in the hall to be sure they weren’t being spied on. “Did you want to come in?” Jon asked suddenly as he opened the door and even he wasn’t sure where that’d come from. The Vagabond looked like he’d been asked if he ate cats but nodded slowly and followed Jon inside. Jon was pleased to see the man relax as the door closed and he took in Jon’s sparse living space.

The reporter tried not to be embarrassed by his dingy apartment so he busied himself with checking the fridge and saw a lone Diet Coke that one of his friends had left on a previous visit. He presented it to the man who’d moved to check out his collection of games.

“Diet Coke, right?” Jon asked, and the man grinned, accepting the can happily.

“Good memory.” The Vagabond followed the floppy haired man as he gestured to the couch. They sat quietly for a couple of minutes before Jon thought of a question he’d been meaning to ask.

“Is Griffon a part of the Crew?”

The Vagabond shook his head, taking another drink. “No, she’s a chainsaw artist. She runs a nice bar too. She knows all about the Crew but she doesn’t get involved and Geoff likes it that way. She’s easily capable of taking care of herself but no one could ever touch her anyway. She’s too well protected by the crew and our friends,” the killer said, voice low, like he remembered something that displeased him.

“I guess it’s probably pretty hard to have someone when you risk your life every day,” Jon mused, half to himself and half to his companion.

“Michael and Gavin make it work, they’ve been together a little over a year now. Gavin makes Michael a little cooler, less… yell-y. Michael makes Gavin do less stupid stuff. I think. I mean, Gavin still does a lot of stuff.” Jon laughed at that, not sure what to picture but hoping he’d find out. “We think Ray is seeing someone outside the Crew but he’s good at keeping his life private if he wants to.”

“What about you?” Jon wasn’t sure where the question had come from and it seemed to surprise the Vagabond but he answered regardless.

“No, I don’t have anyone,” the skull-man muttered before getting up and getting rid of his empty can. He headed for the door but he turned back and handed Jon a small black phone. “This if yours now. Our numbers are in it in case you need to reach us. One of us will be in touch with your information for the next heist,” the man uttered, voice cooler than it’d been before and Jon was worried he’d upset the man.

As the Vagabond turned to leave, Jon asked, “Can I ask you one more question?”

“Technically, that is a question but go ahead,” the man pointed out, but he was smiling so Jon took it as a good thing.

“What’s your name?”

He wasn’t sure if the man would tell him. After all, he was the Vagabond. The rest of the Crew had kept silent, avoided using his name the entire night, and Jon figured the man probably liked his secrets but Jon was burning to know his name. Not the name of the Vagabond, killer and crook, but the name of the handsome man with the shining blue eyes.

The Vagabond eyed him, surprised, and Jon thought he saw a glimmer of suspicion before he was asked, “Why do you want to know?”

Jon could’ve said anything at that moment but as he looked at the Vagabond, looked at those eyes and felt something in his stomach flutter, he decided just to tell the truth. “I like you,” he said, simply.

The Vagabond sucked in a breath and watched Jon cautiously for a moment before he leaned in and captured Jon’s lips. The kiss was chaste but they lingered and when the older man pulled away Jon felt more than a little giddy. “My name is Ryan,” the man said, a smile pulling on his lips as a faint redness settled on his ears.

“Ryan,” Jon breathed, pleased and a little light-headed from it all. Ryan opened the door and stepped out into the hall, his blush all the more noticeable in the fluorescent lights. Surely Jon was a little red too so he figured it made them even.

“Goodnight Jon,” Ryan said, voice unbelievably soft and fond and Jon kind of wanted to pull him back in and kiss him for the rest of the night.

“Goodnight Ryan,” he replied instead, closing the door. He rested his back against the door for a moment and let himself slide down to the floor. He stayed there for long while, wondering how this was life.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon had no idea he'd ever meet the Fake AH Crew. He wasn't prepared, he wasn't expecting it, and he certainly didn't have his camera. Oh, and now he's a hostage. Cool.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys. Thank you so much for your continued comments and love for this piece. June hasn't been the greatest month for me. There's been a lot going on and, frankly, I won't bore you with the details. But I was so sad and lost this month, still am really, that I couldn't write. Every time I sat down to type this chapter out, nothing came. But I kept reading the comments everyone had already posted and were still posting. I wanted to write more for you lovely people and all the people still leaving kudos. I didn't want to give you something half-assed so it took a little while to write but here it is and I'm actually pretty happy with it. So I hope you guys are too. Thanks for reading everyone.
> 
> Ah, yeah so a bit about this chapter. There's smut. 5 MS Word pages of smut. If you don't like smut, maybe skip ahead to the next break? Hope it's not too awful. I don't actually write smut all that often but it just kind of happened and I was okay with it.
> 
> Again, still no Beta so pardon my mistakes. Every time I reread a chapter I see a mistake so I'm slowly fixing them. Feel free to stop by my Tumblr - [AlopexTheFox](http://alopexthefox.tumblr.com) \- to leave a request/prompt or just leave one here.
> 
> I'm gonna stop now. I hope you enjoy and thank you for all of your comments <3

The next few weeks were a bit of a blur for Jon. He’d been texted, as promised, several addresses for him to be at in order to get photos of the Fake AH Crew’s heists and then he’d decide which heists to report on and which he “missed”.

His collection of AH Crew photos grew but, to their dismay, Jon had realized that he enjoyed taking pictures of them even when they weren’t in the middle of an epic heist. They were always photogenic, whether Michael was being framed by fire and smoke from an explosion or if Geoff had just awoken and hadn’t yet been able to style his droopy mustache or his wild hair. At first, they seemed a little nervous when Jon would point his camera lens at one of them without their masks on, which Jon actually could understand. They had to be cautious in their line of work, but he quickly reassured them that they were safe with him. After that, Jon’s camera being drawn was such a common occurrence that they hardly batted an eye.

So when Michael would tackle Gavin during game night or Geoff would pull Griffon in for a sweet embrace and an almost dance, Jon’s camera would mysteriously appear to capture the moment.

He belatedly realized that there was a pattern in his photographs. One of the lads in a pile on the couch, two of Ryan grinning as he watched. There’d be Geoff leaning over a stunning plate of food, laying on the final garnish with care, and then Ryan drinking a Diet Coke and typing on his computer. Ryan was showing up more and more in his photos and every time Jon noticed he’d flush brightly.

Yeah, things were going well with the Vagabond. Who would’ve thought? Since their first kiss, Ryan was always around. Jon would get home from work to find Ryan sat at his couch, playing a video game or watching TV, probably with the dishes done or the carpet vacuumed. Sometimes they’d go to the penthouse to see the rest of the Crew or sometimes they’d stay in with takeout and play games until Jon was too tired to get up and go to bed. On those nights, Ryan would scoop him up gently and carry him to bed, helping Jon get comfortable under the blankets. Jon would always ask if Ryan would join him, too sleepy to care that he was inviting the man to bed so early on into their relationship. But Ryan would just kiss him soundly and tell Jon to go to sleep and how could he argue with that? But when he’d get up for work the next morning, Ryan would be making him breakfast. When he finally got up the nerve to ask why, he found out that the Vagabond often suffered from insomnia and Jon felt instantly relieved that it wasn’t him scaring the other off.

But then he had to go and ruin everything he’d had going for him and the Vagabond.

It was just a quiet evening at the penthouse. Michael and Ray were playing Call of Duty. Jon and Ryan were each on their respective laptops, doing work or playing their own games. (They were, of course, sitting a reasonable distance away since the Crew didn’t know anything was going on between them.) Jack and Geoff were in the kitchen, making dinner for the night, or rather, Geoff was making dinner and Jack was hovering, wanting to help while Geoff waved him off. And Gavin was sitting at the island that separated the kitchen and living room with his laptop out, glaring at it bitterly as he tried to write up some code to hack a security program for an upcoming heist.

“This is impossible! I can’t get around this bloody system. Geoff, we’re gonna have to change our plans a bit,” the British man said, turning to the boss.

“That security system is a problem, Gavvers. It needs to be down or we can’t do a night hit. And that’s a busy bank, a lot of security. That makes more issues. So…?” he trailed off, shooting a look to the rest of the crew, looking for suggestions.

“That’s the glass wall one right? If I had Ryan sniping with me up on that hardware store across the street, we could take out the guards through the windows for you,” Ray offered, barely taking his eyes off of the game.

“The glass is bulletproof and yeah, high velocity rounds and bullshit but we need Ry on the ground for cover,” he said as Ray closed his mouth. Knowing better than to get involved in planning, Jon remained quiet and headed for the fridge for a Red Bull, grabbing a Diet Coke for Ryan as he did. He’d found it rather touching that after he agreed to work with the Crew that the fridge was always full of his favorite drinks and the cupboards with gluten-free snacks. Geoff was slicing up bright veggies for some kind of main course that Jon was sure would be delicious, as all of Geoff’s dishes were. But he happened to glance at Gain’s computer on the way back to the couch and he lingered for a moment, looking over the younger’s shoulder.

“Where’s the server? I might be able to knock it out with an explosion. Or we can cut the power and the back up? Take out everything in one go? Michael suggested, gritting his teeth as Ray shot him. But Jon was too busy looking over the code to really pay attention.

He put down the drinks and reached out, pulling Gavin’s laptop towards him. The man let out a little squawk but stopped as Jon started typing, He wrote out several lines, focusing on everything he knew, and suddenly there was a delightful _ding!_ as the computer accepted the new coding.

“There you go,” he said, pushing the computer back to his friend. Then he realized Gavin was staring. Wide and slack-jawed like he’d just watched Jon swallow his own fist. He looked away nervously only to see that Geoff and Ryan were staring too – they all were. Blushing furiously, he grabbed the drinks and headed back over to the couch, flopping down and thrusting Ryan’s drink at him.

“How did you _do_ that!?” Gavin gaped, a mixture of excited and bewildered as he read over Jon’s work. “How did I not _see_ that!?” 

“I’ve done coding before for websites and stuff. I took a class in college. You just needed fresh eyes,” Jon said, trying to be nonchalant but the look of concern Ryan gave him was throwing him off.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Gavin throw Geoff a meaningful look but Jon wasn’t sure what that meant. 

A few hours later, after Ryan drove him back home, Jon found himself pinned under the larger man on his couch. He could feel a controller digging into his hip and there was a kink in his neck from the angle but he didn’t really care as Ryan sucked a monster of a hickey into his collarbone. He barely heard the man a few moments later when Ryan murmured, “Don’t take it. Don’t agree to anything they ask you.” But then Ryan’s hands were roaming lower and Jon got kinda distracted.

Later, when Ryan was tucking him into bed, he asked what he’d meant. But Ryan gave him the same response he got every night he stayed, a drawn-out kiss and an empty bed.

\- - - - -

It wasn’t until a few days later that Jon understood Ryan’s cryptic words. Jon had just pulled into the pristine garage in the car that Ryan had “loaned” him – he kept finding the keys in his apartment even when he knew he’d returned them to the Vagabond, yeah he was beginning to figure it out – when he saw Geoff standing by the elevator, clearly waiting for him.

“Hey, what’s up?” he asked as he pulled his work bag out of the car and locked it up. He could see now that the boss looked stressed out and conflicted as he gnawed on his lip. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, just wanted to talk to you about something. Make you an offer actually,” Geoff ran a tattooed hand through his messy hair, eyeing Jon carefully. “You can say no. It means further involvement in the Crew and I get it if that’s not your thing. You aren’t in danger now. If you destroy your cell phone, you’d have no link to us…” he trailed off and Jon decided not to remind him of all the pictures he had of the group. “We’d like you to start working with Gavin more. He hates a lot of that coding stuff, always says he wants to do more front lines stuff. You could help me with heist planning, doing our tech work, running our comms during heists. You wouldn’t be in any danger during heists; you’d be strictly behind the scenes. And I’d pay you more. But it’s your decision and you can think about it if you want.” This last part was all said very quickly, as though Geoff couldn’t push the words out fast enough. The man looked tired after, as if a great weight had been shuffed off his shoulders and he could finally rest.

Jon thought back to what Ryan said the other night. _‘Don’t take it. Don’t agree to anything they ask you.’_ But what Geoff offered didn’t sound so bad to him. He still wasn’t going to be in heists but he’d be helping. And so what if that made him accountable with the rest of the crew to the heists? In for a penny as they say.

“I’ll take it,” Jon told him, his voice firm.

Geoff seemed surprised, either thinking that he wouldn’t take it or that he wouldn’t get an answer so soon. “That’s… great! Awesome. Fuck, Gav is gonna be happy as dicks.” Clearly pleased, the boss led him up to the penthouse. Inside, it seemed empty, until Jon heard Michael’s loud voice coming from one of the rooms down the hallway. He hadn’t really explored the penthouse, only the kitchen and living room, but as Geoff led him down the hallway, Jon saw the bathroom, the bedroom Geoff and Griffon shared, a room with a few guns and other miscellaneous equipment, and in the final room, a large table with eight chairs and a huge whiteboard with a map of Achievement City taped up next to it. Clearly, he was being shown the heist room.

The crewmembers fell silent as the two men entered, Gavin, Michael, and Jack all looked pleased to see Jon. Ray looked a little confused but he shrugged and went back to his DS. But it was Ryan who made Jon’s stomach drop. He looked, at first, like he’d seen a ghost and then he’d quickly transitioned into quiet anger though he didn’t say anything.

“Alright, we’re all here. Let’s get started,” Geoff announced, going over to the whiteboard while Jon took the seat farthest from the glowering Vagabond.

When Ryan disappeared down into the garage later that night without offering to escort him home, Jon tried not to let it upset him. It didn’t really work.

\- - - - - 

Jon didn’t hear from Ryan much for the next few days. He’d been over at the penthouse plenty after work but the Vagabond always seemed to be out when he was around. Still, the others kept him busy enough not to notice _too_ much. 

Gavin was eager to hand over the reigns to someone else and Geoff was eager to have someone that didn’t complain about the tasks he gave out. 

Michael had insisted that he needed to know how to defend himself and so he took it upon himself to train Jon on gun handling. Jon finally got to see the Fake AH Crew’s warehouse where they kept all of their getaway vehicles, the majority of their guns, and a makeshift shooting range. He’d started small with handguns, something that he was starting to get comfortable with. The bigger arms, like SMGs and assault rifles were still terrible however but he was working on it. 

Jack was nothing but a string of constant support. It didn’t matter if Jon hit ever shot with a pistol or zero shots with an SMG, Jack was always there with praise. He’d realized pretty quickly that the bearded man was like the mother duck of the Crew and clearly that extended out to him. He realized he was actually starting to like it.

And Ray – Ray had quickly adopted Jon into the group when he realized that he loved to play games too. Usually there was always someone around to join the Puerto Rican in a game but as soon as Jon walked into the penthouse each day, a controller was thrust towards him no matter what work Jon claimed he needed to do. He felt comfortable with Ray and quickly started spending his free time with him, just playing games or listening to music. One late night when Jon decided he really didn’t want to go home to an empty apartment – made more empty by Ryan’s absence – he joined Ray in his “special spot”. As Jon learned, the man loved high places so Geoff had special windows built into the penthouse to let his legs dangle out. (Apparently there’d been some threats about drilling holes up to the roof.) He’d learned in talking to Ray that he’d actually been the one to design the Fake AH Crew logo, an all-green rubber duck encircled by four broken lines. He’d been quick to show Ray the secret sketchbook he kept full of ideas and drawings that he never showed to anyone. And Ray smiled; oohing and awing at everything Jon showed him.

Things were going well unless Jon thought about Ryan. He realized very early on in his Ryan-less week that he was used to going to bed and waking up with Ryan around his apartment – even if Ryan never went to bed or woke up with him. 

So Jon was pretty desperate by the eighth day with no sign of Ryan. But as he walked through the quiet penthouse after everyone had gone to bed, he jumped when he heard a quiet _thump!_ sound. He followed it down the hallway to the room that held their home equipment and peered inside. Besides the guns, communication equipment, and roping, there were also several dart boards hung on the walls, all of their metal scoring removed and deep gashes in their cork. Jon saw why when he saw the Vagabond with several knives in his hands, plunging each of them into a neat line on a board. Jon had taken pictures of the Vagabond using knives in the field and, honestly, Jon found it all fucking hot. The killer was so precise on heists, when he was ready to fight, but Jon had been around long enough that he knew Ryan was actually kind of clumsy when he wasn’t focused on killing someone. Jon found himself wanting to learn Ryan’s other quirks – good or bad.

The last knife sunk into the target with a dull _thunk_ and the thrower turned to see his audience. “Enjoying the show?” the criminal asked, lips pulling up at the corners and Jon took it as a win.

“Yeah. Gotta say, that was pretty hot,” Jon replied, relying on his acting skills to smile and breathe normally, like they were merely talking about the weather. Ryan rolled his eyes and moved to go retrieve his knives from the board. “Think you could teach me how to do that?” the younger man asked, eyeing the knives in the killer’s hands.

“You wont be in danger. Ever. You don’t need knives,” Ryan growled, that steely look in his eyes whenever he thought Jon had made the wrong decision returning. Jon knew he was just worried about him but he blamed the flicker of annoyance he felt on the distance Ryan put between them that week. “Michael’s teaching me how to use a gun for protection but that’s not why I asked. It looks amazing and deadly and fun as hell and so what if I want to try something new,” he snapped. He saw Ryan watching him, face amused, and he felt the flush on his neck as he glowered.

Ryan walked over, placing a gentle kiss on the edge of Jon’s jaw. “I love it when you’re feisty. Come over, I’ll show you. But it’s hard,” he warned, turning back to the boards. 

“I’ll show you something hard,” Jon grumbled quietly. He blushed darkly when he realized what he’d actually said but he knew Ryan had heard him. Abruptly, the man turned and he was pushing Jon up against the wall, his knives falling and sinking into the floor with a heavy noise. Ryan’s mouth covered his completely in a kiss so fierce and hungry that it stole Jon’s breath away. Ryan had kissed him before of course but this was different. There was heat and desire and Jon had never felt more wanted in his life.

Ryan’s hands roamed until they slid under Jon’s shirt, rucking it up so he can feel Jon’s skin trembling under his dexterous fingers. His hands slid lower, reaching back to cup his ass and suddenly Jon felt himself be lifted off of the floor. His arms wrapped around the Vagabond’s neck, locking them together as the man ground their hips together. All of Jon’s blood rushed south in that moment. 

“Ryan,” he moaned out, gasping for air as his lips were released. He seemed to know exactly what Jon was asking though. They slipped out of the room quietly and headed up the stairs and towards one of the rooms though Jon was too preoccupied with nibbling on Ryan’s ear to really take in the new surroundings. Ryan skillfully maneuvered the younger in his arms so that he could push open the door to what Jon could only assume was his room. 

As Ryan set him down on the bed, Jon took a quick glance around. It was pretty non-descript for a bedroom but he saw little touches of Ryan here and there. The Vagabond’s mask sat on a desk in the corner alongside Ryan’s laptop and a forgotten can of Diet Coke. There was a bookshelf on one wall almost overflowing with books and Ryan’s favorite pistol on the nightstand beside his reading glasses. It was all very distinctly _Ryan_. 

He turned to see the man tugging off his belt and Jon very eagerly went back to tugging Ryan down with him. The larger man crawled over top of him and started carefully unbuttoning the expensive vest Jon wore, paid for with his new salary – thank you Geoff Ramsey. “Ryan _please_ …” Jon groaned when he felt like Ryan was taking too long to remove his clothing.

“Shh…” he hushed him and then he was finally pulling off Jon’s shirt and tie and moving onto his slacks. When Jon was stripped, Ryan sat back for a moment to stare, making the younger blush furiously at the scrutiny. Ryan was pleased to see the blush moving down Jon’s body.

“You’re so beautiful,” the Vagabond murmured, leaning down to kiss a trail from Jon’s collarbone to his navel. “I’ll ruin you.”

For some reason, Jon didn’t think he was talking about the _fun_ way. “It’s not like I’m just some innocent civilian. I can take care of myself.”

At this, Ryan didn’t say anything and instead grabbed up Jon’s cock as it rested against his lower abdomen. Before Jon could barely register the touch, Ryan’s glorious mouth enveloped his dick and Jon hissed loudly. They’d never gone farther than handjobs under layers of clothing and Jon was suddenly left wondering what he’d been waiting for all that time.

“Fuck, Ryan, holy _shit_ -“ Jon moaned. Ryan teased him mercilessly, He shuddered violently as the larger did something particularly wonderful with his tongue. “Please R-Ry…” he shuddered out, trying to restrain from bucking up into Ryan’s warm mouth. 

The man pulled off just a bit but the cold air made Jon’s prick feel incredibly sensitive and he groaned in complaint.

Quick as a flash, Ryan was over him, looking down at Jon so all he could see was the criminal’s face and sparkling blue eyes. They looked like blue fire that night, liquid, burning, fierce, full of passion and desire. It all pooled in the bottom of Jon’s belly. “You are mine. I’ve never wanted anything so terribly bad in my lifetime. But you… I can’t have you…” he drifted off. His eyes darted all over Jon’s face, finally seeming to read something on him. “Listen Jon.” Those words never led to anything good. “You and I… It might not be the best thing, you know?” The room went silent and all Jon could hear were their ragged breaths from their fun a moment ago. And then he got annoyed.

“Are you serious?” Ryan looked so surprised though it was almost comical. “I’m in your bed naked, waiting to have some of the best sex in my life, and you want to tell me this isn’t going to work? Guess what Ryan. Something is clearly working here,” Jon said, grouchily gesturing to his exposed dick and the straining one in Ryan’s pants. Ryan at least had the decency to blush. “Don’t treat me like some child who doesn’t know what he wants. I know what I want, and that’s you, right here, right now. Anything else will come later. But I want you to cum now,” Jon finished, moving to start stripping his bedmate down. 

Ryan didn’t say anything or try to struggle as Jon pulled off his hoodie and t-shirt revealing a fit body, if a little flabby. Jon was a little surprised but on closer inspection the bit of weight around Ryan’s middle was hiding layers of strong muscles. Jon knew as much, he could feel them every time they rode on the motorcycle together and Jon would wrap himself tight around Ryan.The term 'dad-bod' sprung to the front of his mind.

His companion finally seemed to come back to himself and helped Jon in removing his jeans and boxers, letting his manhood spring loose. Jon’s mouth began to water as he took Ryan’s impressive length and girth into his hands. The man groaned lightly, resting his hands on Jon’s hips and pressing his fingers in.

Jon pumped him a few times with his hands and it seemed to make Ryan come back to himself. He pushed off of Jon and reached over into the nightstand for a bottle of lube and a condom. Jon didn’t stop rubbing the man’s dick. “Should I be jealous of someone?” there was a lazy smirk on his face so Ryan wasn’t worried.

“It’s for emergencies. Let's just say there haven’t been many,” he assured him before he pushed Jon back onto the mattress and spread his legs wide. He poured a generous amount of lube onto his fingers and worked it in his hands to warm it up. “You’ll stop me?” Ryan asked, his voice concerned for a moment.

“Of course, but please, Ryan-“ Jon broke off his pleading when he felt one of Ryan’s fingers poke at his entrance. He relaxed his body as he felt the intrusion and Ryan was gentle and slow as he sunk the finger in inch by inch. It didn’t hurt too much. It was mostly discomfort and Jon found it was much easier to take the more he breathed through it. When he was all the way in, Ryan waited to give Jon some time and then, with a plea from his lover, Ryan began to pump his finger in and out of him slowly. Jon sighed happily, the friction felt better, and soon it was almost comfortable. But it was when Ryan curled his finger that things got good. His breath hitched and his whole body tensed at the pressure. It made stars burst behind his eyes and a heavy moan escaped his lips. “Damn, Ryan… Please?” It wasn’t meant to be a question but Jon desperately wanted more.

Ryan grinned and added another finger just as slowly, waiting for the discomfort to pass again before he curled his fingers and watched Jon’s body arc.

“Fuck!” Jon cursed, loudly. He quickly threw an arm over his mouth so that the others wouldn’t wake but it was hard. It felt so damn good to him, like fire in his veins making him feel more alive than he ever had. He found himself wondering if Ryan’s dick could possibly make it any better.

The Vagabond relished in Jon’s noises until they were muted and he pulled the arm away and held Jon’s hand in his own. It felt so intimate that it made Jon blush. “The walls have good soundproofing. No one will hear you. No one but me Jon. And I want to hear you – need to hear you,” he told his lover and Jon was taken by momentary surprise. Ryan took that opportunity to insert a third finger and Jon took it much easier. He scissored his digits, spreading Jon open with care and patience, rewarding him with quick presses to that sensitive spot. Soon Jon was a squirming, panting mess under Ryan, grabbing at the bed and the man and begging for more.

Ryan apparently decided he deserved relief because he slid his fingers out, leaving Jon mourning the contact, only to tear open the condom and roll it onto his waiting dick. He hissed loudly as he poured lube over the head and Jon bit his lip hard with want and anticipation. Now slathered with lube, Ryan’s thick head pressed against Jon’s entrance and the younger squirmed happily. Ryan squeezed the hand he was still holding and started pushing into Jon’s tight heat. Jon grit his teeth, groaning loudly, but he tried to relax further as Ryan pressed on. After what seemed like an age, Ryan bottomed out and Jon had a few moments to adjust to the size. It was a big difference than just a couple of fingers but the discomfort wasn’t unpleasant and soon Jon wanted more.

Ryan seemed to sense this because he released Jon’s hand to grab his hips and lift them a little so he could pull out and push back in. Jon moaned loudly and when Ryan did it again, he met the man’s thrusts making him groan louder.

“Jon, fuck, you’re so tight,” Ryan growled, trying to restrain himself from pounding into the smaller man. Jon however seemed eager to increase the speed as he met each of Ryan’s thrusts enthusiastically.

“Faster, Rye, please,” Jon whined, and who was Ryan to say no? He angled his hips a little more and picked up the pace, soon finding the spot. Jon howled in pleasure, keening and squirming as he grabbed at the sheets to ground himself. “Ryan!” he sobbed and came harder than he’d ever come in his life. His vision went white and his body bowed with pleasure. Ryan was still pumping, sending stars by Jon’s eyes until Ryan let out a loud groan and buried himself deep in Jon.

They both lay there panting for a long time and Jon was starting to drift off when Ryan dragged his sticky body off of him and pulled out. Jon groaned at the feeling of emptiness and heard the door open so Ryan could quickly leave and return with a warm, wet cloth. He leaned over Jon, wiping him down gently and the younger was touched by the gentle intimacy of the gesture. Ryan cleaned himself up much quicker and climbed into bed, pulling the blankets out from under them and gently wrapping them both up and hauling Jon right to his chest.

“Aren’t you going to get up? You don’t usually sleep…” he trailed off, not wanting to add the ‘with me’ and sound silly and needy. Ryan, of course, seemed to notice this.

“I’ve wanted to stay with you since that first night, Jon. I’ll stay. I’ll stay and try to sleep,” Ryan told him, pressing a kiss to the underside of Jon’s jaw. Tingly warmth spread through Jon as he snuggled in tighter next to his lover and it didn’t take long before he was fast asleep.

\- - - - - 

After starting to help out more on heists, Jon realized pretty quickly that Geoff was a bad businessman. He’d talk often over the phone to his suppliers or the Crew’s runners while Jon was near and as soon as anything started going in a bad direction, Geoff resorted to violence. He was always telling some one or another that the Vagabond would be paying a visit if they weren’t careful. He’d threaten everything, their business, their health, their families and while Jon knew Geoff was a nice guy, he could be just as dangerous. So the next time Geoff said he was going to go meet with a supplier, Jon asked to tag along.

“Ryan won’t like it…” Geoff mumbled, deciding whether he should put his foot down as boss or consider his precious life. “But hey, if he kills me it’s on you.”

The rest of the crew had quickly picked up on the fact that something was happening between him and Ryan after that first night Jon stayed at the penthouse. Geoff had come banging on Ryan’s door a little before noon – Jon was embarrassingly sore and didn’t want to move and Ryan seemed perfectly content to stay with him – after apparently finding Ryan’s discarded throwing knives imbedded in the floor. “Ryan! That floor was expensive! It’s not a resting place for your knives!” Geoff had hollered. Ryan had snickered quietly and Jon was too glowy with post-coital mirth to do anything but grin back. Eventually, they’d had to emerge only to find the rest of the crew watching them with wide, unblinking eyes as they descended down the stairs – Jon with a bit of a hitch in his step and a blush on his cheeks and Ryan with a satisfied grin.

It was Gavin’s loud “ _wot_ ” that broke the silence and then the questions started.

“Is he paying you? I pay better!” from Geoff.

“Did he threaten you? We can help. Just say the word. Or blink.” Michael offered.

“Whhhhhhhy? He’s so creepy!” That was Gavin.

“Is this like Stockholm Syndrome?” Ray.

The only one who didn’t seem too worried about it was Jack and when Jon asked him why he’d been told, “Ryan seems happier since you came around. And he’s taken a murder break. You make him better.” Jon honestly hadn’t known what to think about that.

The offers of relief kept coming for a few days until Geoff walked in on Jon practicing with Ryan’s knives. After that night – _that_ night, Jon’s spine couldn’t help but tingle – Ryan had done as promised and showed Jon how to throw knives. He was right of course; it was tricky and took a lot of patience but Jon practiced with every spare moment he had. He’d improved dramatically, picking it up quickly and, though he figured Ryan hated to admit it, he was getting almost as good as the Vagabond. He could hit a bull’s-eye, even hit a moving target – that had been an experience and he was still working on it – but he was having trouble with rapid throwing and consistent lines. Geoff had walked in just as one of the knives embedded itself in the bull’s-eye and Jon quickly tried to follow it up with a second. It hit a little down and to the right unfortunately.

“Wow. You’ve gotten a lot better,” the boss commented and Jon felt his skin warm.

“Thanks. It’s fun. Gotta get faster though,” Jon huffed as he sent another knife arching over his head into the red dot.

There was a moment of quiet as he went to retrieve his knives and then Geoff made an ‘oh’ noise. “I get it now. You’re just as crazy as he is.” In the second it took for Jon to realize what Geoff had meant, the man was gone. After that, all the questioning stopped and the crew seemed more comfortable with Jon and Ryan and whatever it was they were doing. However, now they seemed to take Jon’s safety even more seriously and he figured Ryan had something to do with that. Like threatening them. Gee.

But Jon pushed thoughts of Ryan’s over-protectiveness away to join Geoff on one of his meets. It’d taken all of two minutes for Geoff to start waving threats around and the guy seemed about to antagonize the situation further so Jon stepped in casually. Geoff had taken it in stride, like it was all part of the plan, and Jon used all his charm, charisma, and acting prowess to sweet talk the guy into giving them everything on Geoff’s list at _half price_. Geoff remained cool-headed until the drive home and he lost it on Jon, saying Ryan was going to kill them both for letting him get involved and what was he thinking of just hopping in there like that and could he do it again please please _please_.

Needless to say, Ryan was a little less than pleased and there was a bit of an argument between him and Geoff – Ryan had mentioned beheading and Geoff had mentioned cutting Ryan loose but hey – before he relented so long as he could join Jon on meets to keep him safe. Geoff agreed and the crew let out deep breaths when it was apparent no one was going to murder anyone.

So now Jon was taking calls and meeting people, getting or moving anything the Crew needed. He was helping to plan heists with Geoff and work around any technical bumps in the road. Oh, and he was photographing said heists so he could write articles about what he “thought the Fake AH Crew’s next move was.” Things were going pretty well. And he was having the time of his life.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon had no idea he'd ever meet the Fake AH Crew. He wasn't prepared, he wasn't expecting it, and he certainly didn't have his camera. Oh, and now he's a hostage. Cool.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're getting to the end my lovelies. This chapter typed up really quickly once it got started but that might be because it's a pretty relaxed chapter. Next chapter is going to be working up to the end so there will be lots going on. Thank you again to everyone who reads, kudos, bookmarks, and comments on this fic. You're all really wonderful.
> 
> Non-Beta'd chapter but I'm sure you guys are used to it it by now. As always, feel free to stop by my Tumblr - [AlopexTheFox](http://alopexthefox.tumblr.com) \- to leave a request/prompt or you can just leave one here.
> 
> I hope you all enjoy! <3

“So, when are we going to meet your mystery lover?” Miles asked as he leaned against Jon’s desk. Jon smiled to himself and kept typing up the story he was working on about the Fake AH Crew’s heist last week. They’d hit an armored car during rush hour traffic and had caused a lot of mayhem in their escape. He had pictures of the destruction but not the actual heist. He’d told his boss that he’d been on the other side of town and hadn’t made it in time when he’d actually been tucked away in the penthouse, watching the heist from his laptop and giving them helpful advice via the comms. 

He’d, of course, had to shout over Michael’s music. He’d learned pretty quickly that the Crew listened to a lot of music during heists. It was always chosen by either Michael or Gavin and Michael was always the first to start singing and the others would always join in eventually. It didn’t matter whether they were robbing a bank, after an armored truck, or attacking a rival crew’s base – there was always music and singing.

“There is no mystery lover,” Jon told him for what felt like the hundredth time. “He’s just this guy I’m seeing.” Which was true and he had been trying to convince Miles that for weeks. Not only was he totally unsure of where he and Ryan were going but he also didn’t want to put Ryan _or_ Miles in any sort of danger.

“Well no one has met him yet so he’s definitely a mystery,” Miles threw over his shoulder as he headed back for his desk. Jon sighed happily and wet back to his article. It’d started to get very difficult to hide his new life from his old one. Miles and his other friends were getting suspicious of his new relationship and he was getting busier helping with heists that a lot of times he couldn’t get pictures. Geoff had already offered to take him in like he had all the others but Jon didn’t need the help. His bank account was bigger than it’d ever been in his life and he could easily afford a new apartment and a car - and maybe a jet if he wanted – but he liked his friends and they’d get even more suspicious than they already were. And as much as he complained about it, he liked his job. Sure he hated the boring stories but he’d grown a lot more popular since he started writing about the Fake AH Crew and he’d actually begun to remember why he liked journalism in the first place. So he stayed where he was and shrugged off his friends’ questions about Ryan and spent his nights running around with the Fake AH Crew.

\- - - - -

That night there were no heists planned, nothing big happening, no planning. It was just a night off for them to relax. So Michael, Gavin, and Ray had grabbed up Jon as he walked into the penthouse and stalled him with promises of movies and popcorn and candy. Not long after, he was waving goodbye to the gents where they played games, not interested in the movie night.

They’d gone to see the recent superhero film and had eaten way too much popcorn and had way too much of the candy that Gavin had stolen off of the concession stand. It wasn’t until they were driving back that they noticed something was off. They’d been singing along to whatever Michael had on the radio when Ray cut them all off.

“I think we’re being followed,” he said, his quiet voice cutting through the loud music like a knife. Sure enough, the sleek black car that had pulled out behind them at the theatre was still behind them. Michael wasn’t exactly known for taking the most direct route home so it was pretty clear to the four that it was not a coincidence.

“Michael?” Jon asked and Michael took the hint, slamming on the gas until he was well over the speed limit and rushing through the light traffic. Gavin immediately started digging through the console and pulled out a shiny gold pistol. Ray, meanwhile, had reached into the back of the SUV and pulled out his sniper rifle and a pistol for Jon. He also handed him an assault rifle but Jon doubted he’d be of my help with that, his aim was still jerky with the bigger gun and knives and pistols remained his specialty.

The car had sped up behind them and there was no mistaking the fact that they were being followed as the car weaved through the cars behind them. Jon felt his spine chill but he forced himself to remain calm and remember everything Ryan and Michael had taught him about defending himself. Ray gave him a gentle squeeze on the shoulder and smiled reassuringly at him and Jon realized that this was his Crew. They weren’t going to let anything happen to him and he wouldn’t let anything happen to them. So when Ray rolled down his window Jon did the same and started firing his gun as a distraction. The car swerved around the bullets but one hit its mark and splintered a good amount of the windscreen. Ray took his opportunity and put his rifle out the window, lined up a shot, and quickly ruined the rest of the glass. The driver swerved heavily but composed himself and started firing at them with a pistol through his newly opened window. The shots peppered the boot but Ray paid no head as he lined up a second shot and the front left tire exploded. The driver lost control and veered off to crash hard into a barricade. Jon could see why Ray was so revered by the rest of the crew; he was an amazing shot, able to hit a moving object from another moving object. He was kind of terrifying; Jon knew he wouldn’t want to be on the other end of Ray’s rifle.

The four men breathed heavy sighs of relief as Ray pulled his rifle into the car. Michael drove a few more blocks before he headed into a parking garage. “We’re gonna grab a new car, just in case that guy gets any bright ideas,” Michael said, pulling up next to a pretty sports car. While Michael broke in and disabled the alarm, Jon, Ray, and Gavin cleaned their few things out of the car and locked it to be picked up or destroyed later. Thus was the life the most notorious gang in Achievement City, everything could be left or destroyed at a moment’s notice to avoid being caught.

Michael had just started the engine when they heard tires squealing and motorcycle came up the ramp. The driver pulled an SMG on them and they scattered behind vehicles to avoid being shot. Michael and Ray had been pinned down behind the sports car and Jon and Gavin had taken the huge cover of the SUV. Ray was using the assault rifle he’d grabbed to shoot whenever there was a break in shots and Michael was taking advantage of the distracting fire to shoot the bike. The bike went down but the driver rolled smoothly, landing in a crouch and unleashing concentrated fire on the sports car. Gavin was fiddling with his cellphone, presumably to call for back up but Jon didn’t know if there’d be enough time for that. He discarded his empty pistol and grabbed up Gavin’s. He moved to the far side of the SUV and found a fairly open shot at the gunman. He lined up his gun, breathed deeply like Michael told him to, and shot. And shot. And shot. And shot.

The gunman dropped on the third shot but Jon shot again for good measure and after a long silence, realized he’d killed the gunman. Michael and Gavin crept out from behind the car to make sure the guy was actually dead but Ray moved towards Jon. He still had his arm raised, gun still pointed in the direction of the dead man though it dropped like lead when Michael and Gavin moved into the line of fire. He couldn’t take his eyes off of the scene; the man dead, two bullets in his chest and one in his lower back. Ray inched closer and Jon let him pull the gun from his hands and squeeze his shoulder. He finally looked away from the body when Ray asked, “Jon? You okay?”

Was he okay? He looked down at his hands, clean despite the blood they were now covered in. They didn’t shake. In fact, he felt surprisingly okay. He thought killing someone was going to be this intense moment for him and while it’d taken him a few moments to process what had happened, he felt fine. He knew the crew killed people, knew he’d have to some day, but he thought there’d be remorse. Instead he was left wanting to find whoever the bastard was working with and kill them too because how dare they come after the Fake AH Crew. Maybe he was just as crazy as the Vagabond after all.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” he told Ray and it was genuine enough to catch Ray off guard and Jon had a brief moment to realize that Ray had been grazed by a bullet on his left bicep. Then the Puerto Rican smiled, clearly not bothered by it, and they headed over to the other two. They’d already checked they guy over and found no ID or any marks or tattoos that would make them think he belonged to a particular crew. So they hauled the guy up, shuffled him into the destroyed sports car, and Gavin lit it on fire as they drove away. From behind them it burned until a small explosion rattled the parking garage and they figured that’d be as good of a message to any crew trying to fuck with them.

When they got back, the penthouse was in an uproar, though not because of their late night adventures. Gavin, as it turned out, hadn’t gotten through to Geoff before Jon stopped the gunman, so they were entirely oblivious. No, the gents were instead arguing about a game of 1v1 Halo between Geoff and Jack and Ryan seemed to be the deciding vote as they made their cases. They quieted only when the lads and Jon entered their line of view and they could see that they were messy from rolling around in the parkade.

“What the fuck happened to you guys?” Geoff asked, his brows furrowed. Jack was already up, going to get the first aid kit to patch up Ray. Ryan was up as well, though he moved only to Jon, looking him up and down for signs of injury or trauma. Jon was sure he didn’t look great but he looked better than Ray for sure. His hair was messy and windswept from the open window and sweat, his jeans were covered in grime from the ground, and his vest had a hitch in it that he’d had to get fixed. Other than that, he was fine. Which should have been a bad thing he figured. What with the killing someone.

“Some fucker or _fuckers_ followed us from the theatre and tried to kill us,” Michael started. They’d talked on the way back and figured that the guy in the car probably wasn’t the same as the man on the bike unless he’d had a bike and helmet stashed nearby. “Followed us by car and then by bike. Pinned us down in a parking garage.”

“What?” The three gents said at once but Jon only heard Ryan’s angry and demanding tone. His searching eyes only seemed to look that much harder for wounds.

“Ray and I probably would'a got _got_ if it weren't for the Risemonger,” Michael said offhandedly though the eyes in the room quickly darted to Jon’s surprised face. Of course he knew that he was trying to save their lives, that’s why he’d shot the guy, but he also knew that any of them would have done the same for him. Why was it so surprising that he’d done so?

Ryan still looked angry though as he grit out a quiet, “What?”

“He shot the knob. Got the jump on him. It was top, he didn’t even panic,” Gavin told the men, not seeming to notice Ryan’s anger. Jon had however and he saw Ryan’s expression start to turn lethal. And while he didn’t think the anger was directed at him, he felt his hair prick with fear.

“Ryan-“ Jon started before Ray interrupted from the couch where Jack was cleaning up the graze on his arm.

“Rye, Jon saved our lives tonight,” the youngest told him, his voice low and serious.

That seemed to slow Ryan’s anger, let him think for a moment. While Ryan was _not_ afraid of Ray – something he’d assured Jon early on – he did respect the deadly sniper and if Ray thought that Jon had kept him alive, that was saying something.

Ryan seemed to take a few deep breaths through his nose, shutting his angry eyes tight. When he opened them again, almost all of the anger had dissipated. Almost. “Are you alright?” the Vagabond asked, his voice even, careful.

Jon nodded, looking into Ryan’s blue eyes and seeing the fear he’d missed behind the anger. It made his heart swell. “I’m okay, promise.” That seemed to settle his lover a great deal and the man relax, though a touch of worry seemed to linger in his gaze as he watched Jon.

Geoff sauntered over and threw an arm around the younger’s shoulders and pressed a sloppy kiss to his cheek. It was something he’d begun to get used to in being with the Crew – Geoff seemed to have a soft spot for him – Ryan though had yet to warm up to the closeness. He scowled at their boss as he all but hung off of Jon. “What did I tell you? Crazy as our Ryan. And a perfect fit in our little crew,” the mustached man said grandly and Jon flushed darkly under the praise. “I’ll get some drinks going.” And then Geoff was off to the kitchen to get them drinks and most likely already had an idea going in his head for a late night snack - Jon almost wondered if he’d missed his calling as a chef and figured he easily had enough money to become one if he wanted to.

They all settled onto the couches for a team game of Halo, laughing and drinking and enjoying being alive. Jon felt fuzzy the whole night, bubbly and excited and warm, like he was on a permanent buzz. Maybe it was still the adrenaline or maybe it really was the wine. He didn’t really care.

And when Ryan carried him up to bed later that night, after everyone else had said their ‘goodnights’ and gone off to bed, he pressed feather-light kisses to Jon’s face and curled around him in the warm bed. “You’re sure you’re okay? Killing someone…” his lover trailed off, seeming nervous about his choice of words. “It can mess you up. It can tear you apart. I just want you to know that you can tell me if you feel like that.”

Jon smiled and kissed Ryan hard and he was happy when the man melted into the kiss. They separated a few moments later, breathless and both more than a little turned on. “I’m okay, Ryan. I don’t know how, but I am okay. Maybe Geoff is right and I’m like you,” he said, chuckling when Ryan grimaced. “Maybe I was meant to do this sort of thing.” Ryan groaned but he kissed Jon fiercely so he figured that was as good as an agreement.

\- - - - -

After the shooting, Geoff went to work putting his contacts on high alert to find crews that wanted them gone and were missing one or two members. He’d found all of nothing after nearly two weeks and everything had been quiet; no attacks, no threats. Jon figured that if anyone actually tried however, they were just stupid. Ryan had gone on full protective mode and Jon quickly learned that it wasn’t just him the Vagabond was protective over. If someone was going out alone, he’d offer to join them, telling them all there was safety in numbers. And if anyone was going out in a group, they were always armed to the teeth. While the others were getting a little suffocated under Ryan’s watchful eye, Jon was relaxed. He knew he was safe with Ryan and that just meant that he got to see his lover that much more.

All in all, after two weeks, things had gotten back to normal and they were back to pulling off jobs. This one was no different from any of the others. They were hitting a bank, this one bigger and more heavily secured than any of the previous ones the Crew had tried to bust before but they could do it. Jon had already gotten the codes for the vaults and had given them to Gavin and they had a full escape route planned so Jon was free to sit in his perfect vantage point to catch as many good shots as he could. He was taking a few early pictures before everything started when he noticed someone suspicious skulking around. He clearly wasn’t security, he was burly, dressed entirely in black, and wearing shades, looking all-around like the Terminator. A bad feeling immediately settled over the journalist. 

“Guys, there might be a problem,” he spoke into his mouthpiece, watching the guy through his camera and taking his picture. “There’s a guy outside that doesn’t look quite right.” He zoomed in with his camera and saw something that looked suspiciously like a gun underneath his heavy leather jacket. “Yeah, he’s got a gun.”

“Might be about what happened a couple of weeks ago?” Ray’s voice crackled over the headset. He was probably moving into his position on one of the rooftops by now.

“But how would they know we were hitting here?” Gavin asked.

“Maybe they’re trying to hit the bank too,” Jack’s voice came, low over the headset.

“I don’t like this Geoff.” Jon breathed deeply when he heard Ryan, his voice settling Jon’s frayed nerves even when he was worried as well.

“Me neither. Bad feeling. Meet back at the penthouse everyone. Jon, watch out he doesn’t see you,” Geoff told him and then they cut off.

After a moment it was only himself and Ryan left on the comms. “Want me to come get you?” the Vagabond asked.

“I parked your car just around the corner. I’ll see you soon, okay?” Jon assured him, the uneasy feeling still in his gut as he turned away from the man as inconspicuously as possible.

“Be safe.” And Ryan cut out.

“Well well,” a familiar voice caught Jon off-guard as he rounded the corner only to come face to face with Miles. “Jon! What are you doing here?”

“Oh! Hey. Just had to run to the bank is all,” Jon lied quickly, smiling at his friend.

“Isn’t this a little far from home?” Miles was right of course; Jon lived almost clear across town from this bank. He tried not to let it faze him.

“I was visiting someone and decided to stop in on my way home,” he told the man and Miles’ smile grew wider. For some reason, it sent chills down Jon’s spine.

“Oh is it your mystery guy? Gosh, I can’t wait to meet him. He sounds _soooooo_ interesting,” Miles babbled in an overly cheerful voice and that was definitely wrong.

“I don’t think I really mentioned anything about him, did I?” Jon asked, a little nervous now. He watched Miles carefully but his friend only seemed to smile wider.

“No, you didn’t, so I had to do a little digging. Had to protect my dear friend and all. And what should I find but our dear little Jon befriending the Vagabond. The _Vagabond_! Of all the criminals in Achievement City you went for the top of the food chain! Of course, that only makes my life all the easier.” Miles sneered, his friendly façade dropping entirely as he advanced on Jon.

Jon backed up as far as he could but his back bumped into a wall and he realized he was stuck. With a satisfied smirk, Miles reached forward and plucked the headset out of his ear with a gentle caress that made Jon cringe. “Now, Jon. You’re going to take me to the Vagabond and the Fake AH Crew. Do you understand? You’re still a friend and I’d hate to have to fuck you up and all,” Miles all but cooed.

“It was you that sent those guys wasn’t it? The car and the motorcycle?” Jon asked, trying to stall until he could figure out what to do. He started discreetly feeling his pockets and found one of the pocketknives Ryan had given him for protection.

“Of course, but if I’d known you were in the car, of _course_ I would have called the whole thing off,” Miles said, his voice oozing charm. 

_Yeah, sure he would have_ , Jon thought.

“Come on Jon. Tell me where the big bad Vagabond is. I’ll make it worth it,” the man grinned.

Jon yanked his knife out, already flicking it open and he dove at Miles, getting the man with a shallow cut on his arm. It was enough of a distraction to let Jon run and he headed quickly for his car. Miles was screaming profanities behind him and he could hear people running after him but he didn’t stop to look. He jumped into the car as quickly as possible and hit the gas, shrieking away. Jon thought he might have lost them until he saw several dark vehicles in his rearview mirror.

He wasn’t like Jack; he didn’t know all the best routes to lose pursuers on. He wasn’t like Michael; he didn’t think he could drive over 100 miles an hour to put distance between them. But he tried, he hit the gas as hard as he could allow himself without feeling like he was going to crash and he sped through lights and past cars, down busy streets and small alleys. Ryan’s car was incredibly nimble and easy to control but he didn’t seem able to lost his tails. Until, rather abruptly, they broke off from Jon and started heading away from him.

His mind immediately supplied that they could be trying to cut him off somehow but it seemed unlikely that they could predict their path. He wanted desperately to turn around and head back to the penthouse but he figure that he’d just lead them right to the Crew if they were still following him somehow. Jon figured he could at least call them, tell them to be on the lookout for Miles and his men, only to realize as he groped around that he’d left it back at his apartment that morning. He cursed as he drove for another fifteen minutes, giving himself ample time to come to the conclusion that he was no longer being followed, and then turned back towards the penthouse. Traffic was slow but with his heightened panic, Jon swerved in and out of them to get back faster.

He was only a couple of blocks or so from the building, he could see the penthouse looming above him, so he had a full view of the massive explosion that destroyed the top four floors of the building and made the very air vibrate. Jon jerked the car to a stop and climbed out to stare up in horror at the burning building. Everything was gone, no structure left to be seen of the penthouse or the floors beneath it.

The shock only wore off when he heard sirens blaring as they drove towards the building and then the panic set in. Where was the Crew? Yes, they were supposed to be meeting at the penthouse, they would have had tons of time to make it before he did, but they weren’t in that building right? They couldn’t have been.

Abandoning the car, Jon ran into the closest store, a rundown coffee shop that had surely seen its better days, and asked to borrow their phone. He dialed Geoff first and the phone went straight to voicemail. Ray’s did the same. Michael’s. Gavin’s. Jack’s. Nothing. Finally, he tried Ryan. He nearly fainted with relief when the phone started ringing. But it kept ringing far too long, until it went to voicemail. Ryan’s phone never went to voicemail. Ryan always answered.

Despair set in as he thanked the man behind the counter and returned to the car where it sat, abandoned, on the curb. There was nothing left. The Fake AH Crew was gone, his family, his friends. Ryan, whatever he was to Jon – a friend, a lover, possibly his boyfriend – was _gone_. He had nothing left. The shock wrapped around him again like a thick blanket, muffling whatever emotion he was supposed to be feeling. So he did the only thing he could think to do: he drove back to his shitty, empty apartment, crawled his way inside, and crawled in bed. He was too numb to sleep. He was too numb to cry. So Jon sat in silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little bit of Miles' Felix is showing <3


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon had no idea he'd ever meet the Fake AH Crew. He wasn't prepared, he wasn't expecting it, and he certainly didn't have his camera. Oh, and now he's a hostage. Cool.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wooo! It's done!
> 
> Well. I've got half of an epilogue written so expect that soon.
> 
> This chapter was written a long while back during chapter 2 or 3 I think but I really had to go back and adjust some things due to what the story turned into. It really started getting away from me for a bit there and it almost went really dark but I cut it off. I'd never planned on doing an epilogue but I felt like I really wanted to do a "Where did they go after" moment so I'm doing a short one. I've also got lots of little snippets that I removed from the story because they just didn't fit somewhere or they're from another point of view so I think I'll probably post those as a collection.
> 
> As always, feel free to stop by my Tumblr - [AlopexTheFox](http://alopexthefox.tumblr.com) \- to leave a request/prompt or you can leave one here.
> 
> Thank you everyone for reading and I hope you enjoy this last, full chapter of Adventures with Criminals <3

Jon sat on his bed until long after the sun had gone down. He’d had a lot of time to process everything, a lot of time to think everything through. In that time, he also received about twenty phone calls. His phone blared Miles’ ringtone over and over again. Every time he thought his former friend had finally given up, it went off again. By that point he’d realized that Miles was quite clever and could easily figure out that Jon had gone home, so why was he putting so much effort into calling him? Why not just come get him? He surely could. Because what all did Jon have to lose now? His friends were dead. Ryan was- _No_. He couldn’t think about that yet. It would surely be the thing that pushed him over the edge and killed him.

He started wondering what he could do next. Obviously, the penthouse was gone. The laptops with their plans and information were destroyed. If he wrecked the phone the Crew had given him, burned all the photos, he could go back to just being Jon Risinger, journalist and reporter. But he’d had a taste of what life could be like; he’d felt the adrenaline, he’d lived dangerously, he’d killed someone... He’d loved someone.

The warehouse probably hadn’t been found. He could make his own crew. Maybe pull his own heists? He’d been watching Geoff do it for a good half a year. He had their contacts-

His phone rang again but it wasn’t Miles’ ringtone that sounded from the other room – it was Ryan’s. Jon launched himself off of the bed and sprinted to his phone. “ _Ryan_! Oh holy _shit_ , Ryan! Where are you? I thought you were-“

“I’m hurt, Jon,” Miles’ voice said, feigning sadness. “Here I am, calling to console my dear friend in his time but he won’t answer! But he’ll pick up for the Vagabond!”

“Where did you get his phone?” Jon asked darkly, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the kitchen counter.

“Did you really think I couldn’t find out where they were? That earpiece was _very_ useful. Did you enjoy the fireworks, Jon?” Miles asked, sounding as joyful as a child in a candy shop.

“Where did you get his phone, Miles?” he repeated.

“The funny thing is, your dear Vagabond wasn’t in the apartment.” Jon thought he was going to faint. “Yes, Jon, your murderer is alive. Would you like to hear for yourself?” Miles asked. “Come now, Vagabond. Say hello to your little pet.” Jon held his breath and a moment later he heard him.

“Jon?” Ryan asked, his voice concerned. He sounded hoarse, tired, and quiet but he was alive. Fuck, he was alive.

“I’m going to come get you, I promise. You’ll be alright,” he assured his lover, already pushing off from his counter to find the stashed weapons around his home.

“No, Jon, _no_! You can’t. They’re mercenaries, not some piece of shit gang members. They’ll _kill_ you! Just forget about-“

“Annnnnnnd, time’s up,” Miles announced, cutting off Ryan. Jon could still hear Ryan’s voice in the background, shouting after the merc. His chest felt like it was being crushed as the voice faded away. “Now, Jon, what are you going to do?” he hummed. “You can choose to take your lapdog’s advice and just forget you ever heard of the Fake AH Crew. I’ll let you live, let you go back to your mundane little life. I really wouldn’t recommend coming here but I certainly won’t stop you. I’d love to get my chance to play with you,” Miles laughed. “So? What’s it gonna be-“

“Give me the address,” Jon demanded.

“ _Fuck_ , yes! You’re so much fun, Jon. I knew you wouldn’t let me down.”

They were hold up a little outside of town so Jon quickly gathered his things. He had a set of throwing knives as a gift from Ryan, a few larger combat knives, and two pistols. He just hoped it would be enough.

He took Ryan’s car and sped through the quiet night until he found the old factory where Miles had told him to go to. Standing outside were three figures, Miles was among them, as was the Terminator from outside the bank. The other was strangely charred looking, as though he’d been set on fire at some point and hadn’t yet changed. Jon got out of the car and started towards them, one hand on his knives and one on a gun.

“Jon, Jon, Jonny-boy, you are so good to me. Wouldn’t you know it? Today has been like Christmas! I got to kill the Fake AH Crew, catch the Vagabond, and you’ve delivered yourself as well. Let’s not sell you short, you’re the newest member of the Fake AH Crew after all,” Miles said, He was flanked by the other two men, both holding much larger guns than Jon’s pistols. That was going to be his weakness: the distance. He needed to get closer so he could use his knives. “You are a wonder. Truly. When I first went undercover at that pointless job I just thought you were the boring guy with a boring life but _nooooo_! You had a love for adventure, didn’t you? I watched you at that bank the first time you met them. I watched them take you. And you just went right along with it, you know? You were so in _awe_ of them. A bit like puppy love really But then there was the Vagabond! God, you just fell for him soooo bad. It was kind of sad…”

“Where is he, Miles?” Jon asked, keeping his voice calm. He felt foolish and guilty as it sunk in just how badly he’d set up the Crew. He’d led Miles right to them.

“Safely tucked away inside, don’t you worry. We’re going to have lots of fun with him before we kill him, I promise.” The smile Miles gave him made his hair stand on end. He was a good actor because Jon had never seen this wildly sadistic side of the man.

“Why? Why were you after them?” Jon insisted. 

Miles huffed out a slightly annoyed breath and gave Jon a exasperated look. “We’re mercenaries, sweetheart. Try to keep up.”

“Someone paid you to,” Jon answered for himself, his fingers curled around his knives just a little tighter as he moved closer. If the men noticed, they didn’t stop him.

Miles held up his fingers and rubbed them together like there was money between them. “A lot of money, Jon. And when I heard I’d be after the terrifying Vagabond, well, how could I say no? The chance to test my skills against his? And look who came out on top,” he said, gesturing to himself and his men. The men shared a look and smirked.

Jon’s knife flew through the air and embedded itself in the Terminator’s neck. The man dropped his gun and clutched his throat as it spurted with blood. Again, adrenaline pumped through Jon and his hands remained eerily still. The kill even seemed to fuel him as he pulled out his gun and aimed at the other man. The man rolled to the side but the bullet buried into his arm and it seemed enough to distract him for a few seconds. Jon drew a second knife and threw it at Miles though he didn’t seem concerned in the least. The merc caught it easily and Jon froze.

“You’ve gotten pretty good, you know? Did _Ryan_ teach you that? Bet you wish he’d taught you more,” the man said, winking, and Jon found the knife flying back at him. The knife sliced his cheek, making it burn as blood trickled down his face. He’d seen the skill behind the throw and he knew that Miles could have easily killed him if he wanted to. No, he was being toyed with.

Gritting his teeth, he raised his gun but a fist collided with the side of his face and Jon’s world went sideways. The gun flew out of his hand as he hit the ground and skittered away. He tried to roll onto his back but the merc was much bigger and Jon had no hand-to-hand experience whatsoever. He snarled as the man pinned him face down on the ground and secured zipties around his wrists tight enough to bite his skin.

“There we go. Not so bad with your claws trimmed, are you?” Miles all but purred as the other merc hauled Jon up to his knees. He ran a hand down Jon’s face, brushing over his stinging cut, and came away with blood on his fingers. “You put up a valiant effort. Your Vagabond should be proud.” Jon looked up at him with disgust and anger. “Don’t look like that, sweetheart. I promise I’ll make it quick. For you, at least.”

The merc tried to yank him to his feet but Jon struggled hard, trying to at least give them as much of a hassle as he could. The guy holding him didn’t seem to like that because he yanked hard on the zipties around his wrist, tightening them painfully and making him whimper.

“Hey!” Miles barked and thrust a knife Jon hadn’t known he was holding at the man behind him. “Hurt him, I’ll hurt you,” he growled, his face contorted into something dark and dangerous. It softened considerably when Miles turned to look at him. “Don’t struggle, babe. Wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself, would we? Not when we’re going to see the Vagabond.” His stared hardened at the other merc. “Blindfold him. We don’t need him poking around.”

A piece of cloth was placed over his eyes and tied tightly behind his head. “What about Wells,” he asked and Jon assumed he meant the Terminator with the knife in his throat. He smirked to himself, feeling pretty proud of that shot.

“Leave him. He was dumb enough to get his stupid ass killed by an amateur. He deserved it,” he heard Miles say, and then they were heading inside.

Jon was lead down a long corridor before he was shoved into a room and a sharp gasp nearly made his heart stop.

“No! _No_! _Fuck_! I will kill you if you lay a fucking hand on him,” Ryan growled from somewhere in the room and Jon heard struggling. He was so happy in that instant. Ryan was alive and there and he was so happy to be able to hear him threaten people again.

The struggling continued until he heard the smack of skin against skin and a gruff “shut up” from what he could only assume was another mercenary. Jon was shoved into a hard chair and promptly tried down with more biting zipties. The blindfold was removed and he squinted in the harsh light that the lone, naked light bulb gave off. Miles was standing in front of him, looking a mix between smug and downright giddy. To his right a few feet was Ryan, beautiful Ryan, tied to a chair but looking much worse than Jon. His hair was matted with sweat and blood and stuck to his forehead messily. Dried blood led a trail down from his temple towards his collarbone and his torn open shirt. There were cuts running down the expanse of his chest but Jon couldn’t tell if any were deep with all the blood. Large bruises littered his ribs and a particularly dark one covered his left cheek. But his eyes were bright with the manic spark Jon had come to love and there was a hardness to them that told him that his lover would be fine despite the obvious torture. Jon gave a little smile and Ryan’s anger seemed to subside for a moment to smile back.

“You’re going to be fine, Jon,” he murmured, not seeming to care about their audience.

“Aren’t I supposed to be telling you that? I’m the one on the rescue mission here,” Jon replied, trying to keep things light and it seemed to work because Ryan’s eyes crinkled with his smile. 

“God, it’s _disgusting_. Here I heard that the big bad Vagabond was supposed to be the most ruthless killer in all of Achievement City. But you’re just like every other lovesick guy out there,” Miles muttered in disgust and something that sounded like disappointment. “I finally thought I’d met my match. But the problem with you, _Vagabond_ ,” he spat the name out like a curse, “is that I can reach out and break you.” Miles moved toward Jon and ran a hand through Jon’s hair, gripping it tightly and forcing Jon to look at Ryan. His lover’s face contorted into one of both overwhelming agony and fury. “I could snap his neck. Look how delicate it is,” he said as he raised Jon’s head and exposed his neck. “He’d be gone, just like your pathetic little Fake AH Crew.”

Ryan grit his teeth at the mercenary, growling lowly. Jon realized why when he saw the gleam of a knife in the corner of his eye. Miles held his head steady and the knife lowered until he felt the cold sting sliding down the skin of his neck to the collar of his shirt. Miles easily sliced through his shirt and the top of his vest when Ryan started shouting.

“Get your fucking hands off him!” the Vagabond growled, struggling once again. A man Jon hadn’t noticed before stepped forward from behind Ryan and Jon noticed that he looked a little burnt as well. The man raised a large hand and punched Ryan hard across the face. The impact was loud and Jon visibly jumped, making Miles’ knife poke into his skin painfully. The man reached out and wrapped his hand around Ryan’s neck, squeezing and making Ryan gasp for breath.

“No! Stop, please!” Jon begged, trying to turn towards Ryan despite the aching hold Miles had on his hair. The merc laughed and put the knife away only to lay his now empty hand on Jon’s neck. He didn’t try to choke him but instead he stroked his neck and the bit of his chest that was now exposed in a tender way. It was strangely intimate and it made Jon’s skin crawl. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Ryan turning a little blue as he struggled harder. “Stop him,” Jon breathed, his blood running ice cold.

Miles just laughed harder but he nodded his head at the other man. The hand dropped and Ryan took deep wheezing breaths of air. “Fuck, you two are going to be _fun_!” Miles said gleefully.

Ryan snarled when he noticed the mercs hands sliding farther down Jon’s chest, doing what Jon could only call exploring. Miles’ hands left his skin but they continued to trail down and Jon writhed as they moved down to his hips. They only stopped when Miles found his knives and his remaining pistol in his thigh holsters. He turned to give Ryan a playful grin as he held up the knives.

“Please, Vagabond. Intimidate all you want but the fact is, you’re done. You have a weakness and guys like us? We just can’t afford them. There’ll always be someone willing to take _advantage_ of them,” he said, eyeing Jon with a hungry look.

He turned on his heels, directing the two charred men out with him to guard the door. “I’ll be back very soon to continue our fun,” he called over his shoulder before the door closed with a bang.

The two men took a good long moment to breathe and consider what was going to happen to them.

Ryan was the first to speak. “Jon… _Fuck_. Why? Why did you come? The things they’re going to do to you…” he trailed off, sounding so broken and defeated that tears sprung into Jon’s eyes. He’d never heard Ryan sound anything but strong and now…

“Hey, look at me,” Jon urged and Ryan raised his head so Jon could see wet blue eyes staring back at him. It made his throat tighten and he tried to clear it. “I could never live with myself knowing I’d left you here. I know I’m going to hurt, baby… But I’m gonna die here knowing you’re right there with me.”

“Jon-“ Ryan started to interrupt but Jon shushed him gently.

“We’re criminals. Death is something that happens and I’m not afraid. I just,” he paused, knowing it wasn’t the best time but he remembered thinking that Ryan was dead earlier and that spurred him on, “I want you to know that I love you. You don’t have to love me back, I’m okay with that, but I just need you to know that there’s still someone in this world that loves you even if you murder twenty people a week or blow up all of the city's police stations.”

Ryan let out a weak laugh that made him start to cough but he stopped abruptly as a chain of explosions went off, shaking the building and sounding too close for comfort. So they were going to die quicker than they thought.

They sat for a moment in silence, waiting for the next explosion. Nothing came and then Ryan sniffed the air. “Smells like fire,” he mumbled, eyeing Jon grimly. Jon grimaced and thought that he really didn’t want to die in a fire while tied to a chair but he also figured he didn’t have the option of being picky either.

“How did you survive the explosion?” he asked, hoping to take their minds off of things for a few minutes or at least until things started getting hot.

“I was in the garage, waiting for you. I heard the explosion and went to see what was going on. Miles got the jump on me. He managed to hold me off until a couple more of his crew could get down to us,” Ryan explained, looking pained at the retelling. “I’m a little ashamed of how easily they got they managed to overpower me but…” he trailed off, a sad look in his eyes.

“But you were grieving. You lost your crew, your family,” Jon supplied for him, knowing all too well what that was like. He’d been grieving too. Still was for their fallen crewmembers.

Another explosion went off and then they heard footsteps coming towards the door. The both tensed and shared a quick glance, just a look at each other in case it was their last moment together. The door swung open and in walked a man in a singed tuxedo and a droopy mustache, a smug smile on his face.

“And don’t you two look comfy. Here we are, nearly getting our asses blown up and you’re on vacation,” Geoff Ramsey said, a light laugh in his voice despite the grim situation he was probably taking in.

Jon’s heart thundered and he thought he’d never been so happy to see the man before and would probably never be as happy again. Beside him, Ryan look awfully unimpressed but Jon saw the way his eyes watered for a brief moment before he composed himself.

“Funny but we were doing just fine on our own. Jon had a big escape plan all ready to go and you just spoiled it for him,” Ryan told their boss and Jon saw the tension leave his shoulders with the banter.

Geoff rolled his eyes, smiling proudly at the two as Gavin slipped into the room from behind him. He pulled out his gold knife and quickly cut the ties on their wrists and ankles though Jon thought he caught the younger flinch when he saw how badly beaten Ryan actually was. 

Jon immediately went to Ryan’s side to help him up, sliding his lover’s arm over his shoulders to support the bigger man. Up close, Jon could see that a few of the cuts were pretty deep and there were burn marks mixed in with the blood and the bruises. Ryan would definitely need to be taken somewhere where he could be treated.

“Jon, darling, I’m okay,” Ryan whispered in his ear but Jon ignored him and helped Ryan follow the men out of the room.

The three men covered their noses and Jon could only imagine what they smelled as they walked through the decrepit building. They finally got outside and Jon could see Ray and Michael pouring gasoline over the building where the fire had yet to catch. Gavin and Geoff veered off to grab the lone body of the Terminator where the mercs had left him with Jon’s knife in his throat. As they deposited the body in the fire, Jack pulled closer in the black SUV so that Jon could help Ryan inside. His lover settled into the seat with such a deep sign that it made Jon’s throat close up and his eyes sting.

“How’s he doing?” Jack asked, turning around in the driver’s seat to give Ryan a concerned once over.

“Why does everyone keep acting like I’m dying? I’m fine,” Ryan grumbled though Jon could hear the affection in his voice. He could also still hear how raspy his voice still was from being choked and some of his wounds were still bleeding onto the car seats.

Jon patted Ryan’s leg lightly and smiled at Jack in what he hoped was an assuring way. “He’ll be okay."

Soon enough, the others were done their clean up and in the distance Jon could hear sirens blaring and heading right for them. They all climbed into the vehicle, taking turns to lay a hand on Ryan and see for themselves that he really was okay and welcome their friend back at the same time. Finally, when Geoff was the last to climb in, Jon stopped him with a tug on his sleeve and look of intense worry.

“Miles?”

Geoff seemed to understand what he meant and he nodded, glancing back at the burning building. Jon heaved a heavy sigh of relief and settled back in the seat to snuggle next to Ryan. Miles was dead and would never be a threat to Ryan ever again and that meant that Jon might be able to sleep again without too much anxiety.

Jack peeled away from the building and back towards the city where Caleb, the Fake AH Crew’s personal physician, lived. He’d heard of the man but no major injuries had ever required that Jon be present when someone went to visit the doctor. It was less suspicious for one or two of them to show up but seven was probably pushing it.

Eventually, Michael seemed to remember something and he reached behind his seat into the boot and Ryan’s familiar leather jacket. “We saved your mask too,” Michael told him, looking pleased. Ryan looked much more comfortable as Jon and Michael draped the coat over his naked chest, allowing himself to close his eyes and bask in the company of his friends.

As casual as anything, Geoff turned around from the front seat to hand two gleaming things with red to Jon. He saw it was the knives he’d used to kill Miles’ merc friend and the one Miles had cut him with. “I assume these belong to you?” the boss asked, a smug look on his face. Jon took the knives and nodded sheepishly when he noticed the others eyeing him with various looks. Most were delighted but Ryan looked so terribly proud and pleased that Jon felt his cheeks burn.

When they pulled up to Caleb’s, the doctor was already waiting by the door so they helped Ryan out of the car and led him up to the man. The small doctor took Ryan into his home office and said that he’d have the Vagabond cleaned up in no time.

The rest of the crew settled into the living room and Jon immediately blurted out, “how did you guys survive the explosion?”

Gavin and Geoff smiled impish grins and Geoff leaned forward in eagerness. “Remember that button we told you never to push?” Jon vaguely recalled one of his very early days at the penthouse when he’d gone to flick on a light and nearly hit a strange button labeled “G”. The entire crew had shot out of their seats to stop him and Geoff warned him never to hit the button. He’d taken to walking as far away from the button as he could to avoid the possibility of touching it at all.

The others chuckled as Jon nodded, not quite getting the joke.

“We have what some might call a fail-safe. The penthouse was loaded with explosives. You know, just in case we ever got attacked,” Michael told Jon while Geoff cackled and nearly fell off of his section of the couch. Somehow, Jon wasn’t the least bit surprised. So it hadn’t been Miles that blew up their home.

“We call it Plan G,” the Brit snickered. Michael just grabbed his boyfriend and silenced him with a kiss.

“But how’d you actually get out?” Jon pressed, ignoring the couple now completely as they seemed to get a little lost in where they were. Not that any of them really minded but it reminded Jon that Ryan was alive and he felt the urgent need to shower him with love.

“We kept a few things at the penthouse from heists just for emergency. I’m sure you noticed the ropes in the room with the dartboards. Michael got Gavin into a parachute so he wouldn’t absolutely kill himself and the rest of us repelled down the back of the building to a lower floor before the apartment went off,” Jack told the man who was drinking it all in like the eager reporter he was.

He looked each of them up and down, noting the way Michael looked the most charred. His curls were a little singed and there was a red burn on the back of the hand that Gavin looked to be curled around, like he could stop anything from hurting it. Ray seemed to be favoring his left leg and Jon suspected he might have hurt it in the escape. Geoff’s suit had a few burn marks but otherwise he looked to be perfectly fine. Jack and Gavin looked pretty much untouched.

Jon smiled at his crew knowingly. “You know, you guys blew up four floors of that building.”

“Yeah, we might have miscalculated on the amount of explosives. Good thing the top five floors were owned by us,” Ray said and Jon laughed because of _course_ they’d thought of that too.

“At least it killed off a bunch of those damned mercs. There were ten when they stormed the house. We only had to kill the three at the hideout, well, four with the one you killed,” Geoff told him, grinning wildly.

“And Griffon is okay?” Jon asked, wondering about the woman with the chainsaw.

“Oh, Griffon’s fine. She never stays at the penthouse during heists. She either goes to her own place or out of town,” the boss explained, smiling in that fond way he did whenever he thought of the woman.

“What about all of the information we had stored in the penthouse?” Jon just wanted to make sure all of their bases were covered.

Geoff just laughed, “Relax, damn it, you’ll run me out of my job if you keep this up. We had backups at the warehouse. Can’t be too careful, you know? Besides, I think we could all use a little vacation while we find a new home.” The rest of the crew erupted into excited chatter about where they should go and they only quieted when Caleb came out of the office. Jon shot up in an instant and a nod from the doctor was all he needed to go barreling past him and into the room.

Ryan was sitting up on the bed, his torn shirt discarded and bandages around his torso. Jon felt his knees turn to jelly and he thought he would’ve fallen if Ryan hadn’t beckoned him over. As soon as Jon was in arm’s reach, he was tugged into Ryan and kissed soundly until he was heaving for breath. Even then, it still didn’t seem like enough.

“Don’t scare me like that again,” Ryan all but begged as he kissed along Jon’s jaw while he got some air.

“Me? I thought you were dead!” Jon shot back although there was no heat behind his words.

“I thought I’d have to watch you die,” he said, catching Jon’s eye, and the sincere pain behind those blue sparks struck the younger hard. “I’ll never be strong enough for that.”

“I’m fine now, no more worrying,” Jon murmured, his lips against Ryan’s. They basked in each other’s presence for a few more minutes until Ryan caught a glimpse of the raw cut on Jon’s cheek. He called Caleb in after he’d finished patching up Michael and had given Ray a crutch for his sprained ankle. Ryan didn’t leave Jon’s side as Caleb cleaned and bandaged his injuries. Besides his cheek, the line Miles made down his throat had turned red and drew some blood but nothing serious and his wrists were raw and sore from the zipties. When he was finished with Jon, they headed back out to the car with the explicit instructions to take it easy for a few days. None of them really complained.

The Crew would be staying at one of their safe houses for a few days until they could find a new, more beautiful home than before – Jon didn’t think there was anything nicer than the old penthouse on the market but these guys made a habit of surprising him. Jon and Ryan, however, would return to Jon’s apartment, at least for the first night.

The ride to Jon’s had been a lot of bickering about their new home but the one thing they all agreed upon was that Jon should move out of his apartment. He had more than enough to get a place of his own if he didn’t want to be lumped into the – no doubt spacious – new AH house and it would be safer in case any of Miles’ mercs were still snooping around. They’d put it under a false name for him, set him up comfortably with a new civilian job if he wanted. 

The only thing they tiptoed around was whether or not Ryan would be joining him. Jon understood the hesitance, Ryan was, well, Ryan. He could be a bit strange and, really, no one had any idea if they were dating or just sleeping together, not even Jon. So what the next step was, they didn’t really know. But Jon really hoped he’d get to find out.

\- - - - -

“You know, that’s a lot of pictures,” Ryan said when Jon found him in his tiny office later that night/morning - they were packing Jon’s things for the move. It was true. He’d taken all of his favorites from the last few months and developed them, pinning them up on a board over looking his desk. Michael and Gavin at the beach, splashing each other in the water. Geoff and Jack playing cards together with Geoff’s face red as he yelled about something. One of Ray with a blunt between his lips and his feet dangling out of the penthouse window, headphones on his head. Griffon holding her chainsaw and turning a log into a masterpiece. And Ryan – Ryan was everywhere. Pictures of him on his laptop, a diet coke in hand. A shot of him at the dartboards, a knife just leaving his fingertips. Him grinning at at Jon as he took the picture. And one that Ray had taken of the two of them together: Ryan was laughing at Jon when he realized that Ray was holding his precious camera. That one was his favorite. Ryan was looking at him with such happiness and something Jon really hoped was love.

“I want to remember, you know? So I take pictures,” Jon explained, reaching forward to brush his hand against Ryan’s. He was so nervous to touch his lover as so much of him had been hurt. Every move that he made became feather light. Ryan, however, wanted none of the carefulness and would simply grab up Jon and kiss him decisively whenever he thought he was being too cautious. Now, he simply took Jon’s hand in his.

“Look, Rye,” Jon started, trying to work himself up. “I know you guys will be moving into a new home soon and that I will be too and I know we’re not really all that serious but I was maybe wondering-“ he cut himself off, taking a deep breath to try and slow down what he was saying, “- I was kind of hoping that, maybe, you might want to come and stay with me. I mean, I get it if you don’t want to, you haven’t committed to anything so I get it-“

Ryan cut him off firmly with a kiss that left Jon reeling and he had to grab his lover for support so he didn’t topple right over. “Sorry,” Ryan apologized though he didn’t sound very sorry at all. “I just kind of thought I had committed. I figured it was a given that I want to be wherever you are. If you want to cut your criminal career short and go back to being a civilian, I’ll follow you, though I don’t know if I’ll ever fit right in a normal job but I’ll sure as Hell try for you, Jon,” Ryan rambled and Jon’s heart fluttered. Ryan must’ve read something in his face on accident because he abruptly turned red. “Sorry. You know, me. Bad with words.”

“And humor, if I recall,” he added, thinking back to that first motorcycle ride when Ryan called him a meat-shield. “So, that’s a yes?” he asked hopefully, just to be sure.

“Yeah, Jon. I’m yours, so long as you want me,” Ryan assured him, pressing a kiss to Jon’s jaw, right under the bandage. “Hell, I’m yours if you don’t.”

Jon laughed against Ryan’s mouth, unable to hide his joy. “You’re such a sap, Haywood.”


	7. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon had no idea he'd ever meet the Fake AH Crew. He wasn't prepared, he wasn't expecting it, and he certainly didn't have his camera. Oh, and now he's a hostage. Cool.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's the end. It's all done. Now for the next adventure, whatever that is.
> 
> I really hope you all enjoyed this fic as much as I've enjoyed writing it.
> 
> Please, send me requests or prompts for whatever you'd like to see next guys. I want to do something for you guys <3 Hit me up at my tumblr - [AlopexTheFox](http://alopexthefox.tumblr.com)
> 
> I hope to see you all soon in another fic. Thank you again! <3 <3

**Two years later**

“Alright, Diddler, we’re ready for you,” Geoff Ramsey’s voice crackled through the earpiece. Jon made a mental note to get new radio equipment for the Crew.

Jack laughed from the driver’s seat of the armored truck – the same one they’d ridden in the first time Jon met the crew – while Jon was checked his knives and guns. “Couldn’t have picked a better name?” the bearded man asked as he barreled down the busy street, swerving in and out of traffic with a skill that still boggled Jon’s mind.

“I like it, thank you,” Jon told him, sticking his tongue out at the man despite him being unable to see.

“Diddler?” Geoff asked again, sounding impatient. Jack snickered again.

Jon keyed up his mic. “We’re on our way. There’s traffic and I think Jack is losing his touch,” he joked, hearing the bearded man scoff in the front seat.

The truck jolted to a stop, sending Jon stumbling and Jack laughing. Shaking his head, Jon headed to the back of the truck, pulled down his skeleton mask – a gift from the Crew though it was much more cartoonish than the Vagabond’s – and pushed open the doors. He could hear the sirens in the distance but he also knew that the New York City traffic would slow them down and Jack, Ryan, and Ray would take care of them if they got there ahead of schedule.

Jon strolled leisurely into the bank and waved cheerfully at Michael, Gavin, and Geoff, all of them standing over several hostages and wearing various masks.

“About time,” Geoff grumbled, checking his watch. “You have two minutes to do your thing. It better be enough.”

Jon just laughed, hoping over the hostages and heading back towards the vault. In front of the enormous door stood the Vagabond, looking tall, dark, and scary in his signature skull mask and leather jacket. He also had a small arsenal strapped to his body. 

“Cutting it a bit close, don’t you think?” his boyfriend asked and Jon saw his blue eyes crinkle behind the mask.

“Ah, take it easy. Jack does his best,” Jon told him with a chuckled as he walked right up to the man and reached out to stroke a hand down his mask. “You’re so hot when you’re scary.”

“Don’t you have a vault to open?” Ryan asked, sounding a little worried and Jon rolled his eyes good-naturedly.

“If I open it in thirty seconds or less you owe me a prize,” he told the Vagabond with a wink and the man shrugged, not seeing a problem in this.

Jon knelt before the vault and started typing into the keypad on the side.

“Okay, but if you don’t, you get to take Ray to the dentist and you know what a fuss-“ Ryan started but cut off when the door beeped and opened in all of oh, maybe fifteen seconds. “How do you _do_ that?”

Jon snorted but Ryan saw the telltale blush running up the back of his neck. “Please, I have my ways.”

“I’ll go get the others,” Ryan told him with a roll of his eyes, heading back to the main hall.

“What about my prize?” Jon called after him.

“Later!”

\- - - - -

That night, after the wildly successful heist, they celebrated in a pub that Geoff had rented for a private event. It was cozy and the gathering was intimate. It was just the Crew and Griffon, who’d been in New York for business. Michael and Ray were playing a game of pool while Gavin drank from the sidelines and asked them silly questions, Geoff, Jack, and Griffon were sat down in a booth, chattering away between their drinks, and Jon and Ryan were standing in front of a dartboard, having pulled off the metal scoring – the bartender had gotten pissy until Ryan threw down a hundred dollar bill as a tip – and they were deciding who’d throw first.

“Fine, you go,” Jon said, gesturing to the board with his knife and stepping back. The contest had been running for months now, to see who was the better thrower. Ryan had power behind his throw and could sometimes go all the way through the board to the wall if he tried. Jon, however, had gotten quick and deadly accurate over the last year and could throw five knives before Ryan could throw two. The Crew had long since gotten bored of the debate but they were split in their decision. And so, the game continued.

Ryan lined himself up and arched his arm over his head, sending the blade flying and hitting just above the bullseye. He scowled at the board for a moment and then backed out of the way for Jon.

The younger man smirked as he stepped up, testing the weight of his knife. He drew his arm back and threw, the knife sinking into the bullseye with a sharp noise as it scraped against Ryan’s blade.

He turned back to see Ryan smiling at him and his grin instantly faded. “You just let me win, didn’t you?” he asked suspiciously.

“Course not,” the man told him as he went to collect the knives.

“That’s not the kind of prize I asked for, you know,” Jon muttered, following after his boyfriend.

“No, I don’t imagine it was. How about this?” Ryan asked, turning to Jon with a little black box in his hand. Jon stared at the box in shock as Ryan lifted the lid and inside was a black metal ring with three tiny diamonds resting in the center band. It was simple and yet so much more than anything Jon could’ve asked for. “You’re my world, darling. You’ve never asked me to be anything more than what I am and I love you so much for that. From that first day at that bank, you saw me for who I was and you never looked back because you are so strong. I am so _grateful_ for that because I don’t know what I’d have done without you in my life. You know I’m bad with words so let me just ask you. Jon Risinger, will you marry me?” Ryan asked, looking so blindingly hopeful and honest and Jon’s eyes stung.

“Yeah, yes, _fuck_ , yes, of course,” Jon said and he felt the world tilt a bit as Ryan kissed him desperately. Cheers broke out around the bar and they pulled apart to see their friends grinning and congratulating them. He’d get to kiss Ryan later. They had the rest of their lives, after all.


End file.
